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THE 


STEANGE ADVENTURES 


OP 

A PHAETON. 


^ Novel. 

By william BLACK, 

AUTHOR OF 

'GREEN PASTURES AND PICCADILLY,” “A PRINCESS OF THULE,” ‘‘THREE 
FEATHERS,” ‘‘A DAUGHTER OF HETH,” ‘‘MADCAP VIOLET,” 



NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 








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/ look back on a Journey which was made pleasant by the fancy that you 
might have been with me ; I look forward to another and longer journey ren- 
dered beautiful by the hope that you may be with me ; and I find this book 
between. What can I do with it but lay it at your feet^ and ask you^ as you 
look over its pages , and smile at the distorted vision of yourself you may find 
there, to forgive the rude and graceless outlims that were meant to portray 
one of the most innocent, tender, and beautiful souls God has ever given to the 
world? The blind man who has never seen the stars dreams of them, and 
is happy. And if he should be cured of his blindness, and get to know the 
stars and become familiar with all the majesty and wonder of them, will he 
look with much contempt on those imperfect pictures of them he had formed tn 
the time of his loneliness and ignorance ? I think not ; and that is the excuse 
I have for offering to you this book, knowing that you will look charitably on 
these gropings in the dark, for the sake of the love and admiration that 
prompted them. 


CONTENTS 


OHAPTBR p^QB 

I. OUR BELL 9 

II. A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN 15 

III. “PRINZ EUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER” 28 

IV. ARTHUR VANISHES 38 

V. QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT 51 

VI. A GIFT OF TONGUES 64 

VII. ATRA CURA 83 

VIII. NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN 100 

IX. A MOONLIGHT NIGHT 110 

X. THE A\"ENGER 124 

XI. SOME WORCESTER SAUCE 133 

XII. THE RIVALS 143 

XIII. SAVED 158 

XIV. A SHREWSBURY PLAY 170 

XV. “la patrie en danger” 182 

XVI. OUR UHLAN OUTMANCEUVRED 192 

XVII. IN THE FAIRY GLEN 206 

XVIII. THE COLLAPSE 215 

XIX. THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG 226 

XX. chloe’s garland 243 

XXI. ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE 256 

XXII. ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS 268 

XXIII. AT NIGHT ON GRASMERE 278 

XXIV. ARTHUR’S SONG 287 

XXV. ARMAGEDDON 297 

XXVI. THE LAST OF GRASMERE 308 

XXVII. ALONG THE GRETA 319 

XXVIII. “ade!” 327 

XXIX. OVER THE BORDER 334 

XXX. Tn;\T]ED SIDE 345 

XXXI. OUR EPILOGUE 355 




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THE 


STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


CHAPTER I. 

OUR BELL. 

“ Oh, the oak, and the ash, and the bonny ivy-tree. 

They grow so green in the North Countrie !” 

It was all settled one evening in the deep winter-time. Out- 
side, a sharp east wind was whistling round the solitudes of Box 
Hill ; the Mole, at the foot of our garden, as it stole stealthily 
through the darkness, crackled the flakes of ice that lay along its 
level banks; and away on Mickleham Downs — and on the far- 
ther uplands towards the sea — the cold stars were shining down 
on a thin coating of snow. 

Indoors there was another story to tell; for the mistress of 
the house — Queen Titania, as we call her — a small person, with 
a calm, handsome, pale face, an abundance of black hair, big eyes 
that are occasionally somewhat cold and critical in look, and a 
certain magnificence of manner which makes you fancy her rather 
a tall and stately woman — has a trick of so filling her drawing- 
room with dexterous traceries of grass and ferns, with plentiful 
flowers of her own rearing, and with a clouded glare of light, 
that, amidst the general warmth, the glow and perfume, and vari- 
ety of brilliant colors, you would almost forget that the winter is 
chill and desolate and dark. 

Then Bell, our guest and companion for many a year, lends 
herself to the deception; for the wilful young person, though 
there were a dozen inches of snow on the meadows, would come 
down to dinner in a dress of blue, with touches of white gossa- 
mer and fur about the tight wrists and neck — with a white rose 

1 * 


10 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


and a bunch of forget-me-nots, as blue as her eyes, twisted into 
the soft masses of her light-brown hair, and with a certain gay 
and careless demeanor, meant to let us know that she, having 
been born and bred in the North Country, has a fine contempt 
for the mild rigors of our Southern winter. 

But on this particular evening. Bell — our Bell, our Bonny Bell, 
our Lady Bell, as she is variously called when she provokes peo- 
ple into giving her pet names — had been sitting for a long time 
with an open book oi^ her knee ; and as this volume was all about 
the English lakes, and gay pictures of them, and placed here and 
there little tail-pieces of ferns and blossoms, she may have been 
driven to contrast the visions thus conjured up with the reali- 
ties suggested by the fierce gusts of wind that were blowing 
coldly through the box-trees outside. All at once she placed the 
volume gently on the white hearth-rug, and said, with a strange 
wistfulness shining in the deeps of her blue eyes, 

“ Tita, cannot you make us talk about the summer, and drown 
the noise of that dreadful wind ? Why don’t we conspire to cheat 
the winter and make believe it is summer again ? Doesn’t it seem 
to be years and years ago since we had the long light evenings ; 
the walks between the hedge-rows, the waiting for the moon up 
on the crest of the hill, and then the quiet stroll downward into 
the valley and home again, with the wild roses, and the meadow- 
sweet, and the evening campions filling the warm night air? 
Come, let us sit close together, and make it summer ! See, Tita ! 
— it is a bright forenoon — you can nearly catch a glimpse of the 
Downs above Brighton — and we are going to shut up the house, 
and go away anywhere for a whole month. Round comes that 
dear old mail-phaeton, and my pair of bonny bays are whinnying 
for a bit of sugar. Papa is sulky — ” 

“ As usual,” remarks my lady, without lifting her eyes from 
the carpet. 

“ — for though the imperial has been slung on, there is scarcely 
enough room for the heaps of our luggage, and, like every man, 
he has a deadly hatred of bonnet-boxes. Then you take your seat, 
my dear, looking like a small empress in a gray travelling dress; 
and papa — after pretending to have inspected all the harness — 
takes the reins ; I pop in behind, for the hood, when it is turned 
down, makes such a pleasant cushion for your arms, and you can 
stick your sketch-book into it, and a row of apples and anything 


OUR BELL. 


11 


else ; and Sandy touches his forelock, and Kate bobs a courtesy, 
and away and away we go ! How sweet and fresh the air is, Tita! 
and don’t you smell the honeysuckle in the hedge? Why, here 
we are at Dorking ! Papa pulls up to grumble about the last beer 
that was sent; and then Castor and Pollux toss up their heads 
again, and on we drive to Guildford, and to Reading, and to Ox- 
ford. And all through England we go, using sometimes the old 
coaching-roads, and sometimes the by-roads, stopping at the curi- 
ous little inns, and chatting to the old country folks, and singing 
ballads of an evening as we sit upon the hill-sides, and watch the 
partridges dusting themselves below us in the road ; and then on 
and on again. Is not that the sea, Tita ? Look at the long stretch 
of Morecambe Bay and the yellow sands, and the steamers on the 
horizon ! But all at once we dive into the hills again, and we 
come to the old familiar places by Applethwaite and Ambleside, 
and then some evening — some evening, Tita — we come in sight 
of Grasmere, and then — and then — ” 

“ Why, Bell ! what is the matter with you ?” cries the other, 
and the next minute her arms are round the light-brown head, 
crushing its white rose and its blue forget-me-nots. 

“ If you two young creatures,” it is remarked, “ would seriously 
settle where we are to go next summer, you would be better em- 
ployed than in rubbing your heads together like a couple of baby 
calves.” 

“ Settle !” says Lady Tita, with a smile of gentle impertinence 
on her face ; “ we know who is allowed to settle things in this 
house. If we were to settle anything, some wonderful discovery 
would be made about the horses’ feet, or the wheels of that valu- 
able phaeton, which was made, I should fancy, about the time the 
owner of it was born — ” 

“The wife who mocks at her husband’s gray hairs,” I re- 
mark, calmly, “knowing the share she has had in producing 
them — ” 

Here our Bonny Bell interfered, and a truce was concluded. 
The armistice was devoted to consideration of Bell’s project, which 
at length it was resolved to adopt. Why, after going year after 
year round the Southern counties in that big, old-fashioned phae- 
ton which had become as a house to us, should we not strike fair- 
ly northward ? These circles round the South would resemble the 
swinging of a stone in the sling before it is projected ; and, once 


12 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


we were started on the straight path, who could tell how far we 
might not go? 

“ Then,” said I — for our thoughts at this time were often di- 
rected to the great masses of men who were marching through 
the wet valleys of France, or keeping guard amidst cold and fog 
in the trenches around Paris — “ suppose that by July next the war 
may be over; Count Von Rosen says he means to pay us a visit, 
and have a look at England. Why should not he join our party, 
and become a companion for Bell ?” 

I had inadvertently probed a hornets’ nest. The women of our 
household were at that time bitter against the Germans ; and but 
half an hour before Bell herself had been eloquently denouncing 
the doings of the Prussians. Had they not in secrecy been pre- 
paring to steal back Alsace and Lorraine ; had they not taken ad- 
vantage of the time when the good and gentle France was averse 
from war to provoke a quarrel ; had not the king openly insulted 
the French ambassador in the promenade at Ems; and had not 
their hordes of men swarmed into the quiet villages, slaying and 
destroying, robbing the poor and aged, and winning battles by 
mere force of numbers ? Besides, the suggestion that this young 
lieutenant of cavalry might be a companion for Bell appeared to 
be an intentional injury done to a certain amiable young gentle- 
man, of no particular prospects, living in the Temple ; and so Bell 
forthwith declared her dislike not only of the German oflScers, 
but of all oflScers whatsoever. 

“And as for Count Von Rosen,” she said, “ I can remember 
him at Bonn only as a very rude and greedy boy, who showed a 
great row of white teeth when he laughed, and made bad jokes 
about my mistakes in German. And now I dare say he is a tall 
fellow, with a stiff neck, a brown face, perhaps a beard, a clanking 
sword, and the air of a Bobadil, as he stalks into an inn and calls 
out, ^Kellnare ! eene Pulle Sect ! und sagen Sie mal^ was haben 
Sie fur Zeitungen — die Alljemeene ” 

I ventured to point out to Bell that she might alter her opin- 
ion when Von Rosen actually came over with all the glamour of 
a hero about him ; and that, indeed, she could not do better than 
marry him. 

Bell opened her eyes. 

“ Marry him, because he is a hero ! No ! I would not marry 
a hero, after he had become a hero. It would be something to 


OUR BELL. 


13 


marry a man wlio was afterward to become great, and be with 
him all the time of his poverty and his struggles. That would 
be worth something — to comfort him when he was in despair, to 
be kind to him when he was suffering ; and then, when it was all 
over, and he had got his head above these troubles, he would say 
to you, ‘ Oh, Kate, or Nell,’ as your name might be, ‘ how good 
you were during the old time when we were poor and friendless !’ 
But when he has become a hero, he thinks he will overawe you 
with the shadow of his great reputation. He thinks he has only 
to come, and hold out the tips of his fingers, and say, ‘ I am a 
great person. Everybody worships me. I will allow you to 
share my brilliant fortune, and you will dutifully kiss me. Merer., 
monsieur ! but if any man were to come to me like that, I would 
answer him as Canning’s knife-grinder was answered — ‘I give 
you kisses ? I will see you — ’ ” 

“ Bell !” cried my lady, peremptorily. 

Bell stopped, and then blushed, and dropped her eyes. 

“ What is one to do,” she asked, meekly, “ when a quotation 
comes in?” 

“You used to be a good girl,” said Queen Tita, in her severest 
manner ; “ but you are becoming worse and worse every day. I 
hear you sing the refrains of horrid street songs. Your love of 
sitting up at night is dreadful. The very maid-servants are shock- 
ed by your wilful provincialisms. And you treat me, for whom 
you ought to show some respect, with a levity and familiarity 
without example. I will send a report of your behavior to — ” 
And here the look of mischief in Bell’s eyes — which had been 
deepening just as you may see the pupil of a cat widening before 
she makes a spring — suddenly gave way to a glance of urgent 
and meek entreaty, which was recognized in the proper quarter. 
Tita named no names ; and the storm blew over. 

For the present, therefore, the project of adding this young 
Uhlan to our party was dropped ; but the idea of our northward 
trip remained, and gradually assumed definite consistency. In- 
deed, as it developed itself during those long winter evenings, it 
came to be a thing to dream about. But all the same I could see 
that Tita sometimes returned to the notion of providing a com- 
panion for Bell ; and, whatever may have been her dislike of the 
Germans in general. Lieutenant Von Rosen was not forgotten. 
At odd times, when 


14 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ In her hazel eyes her thoughts lay clear 
As pebbles in a brook,” 

it seemed to me that she was busy with those forecasts which are 
dear to the hearts of women. One night we three were sitting 
as quietly as usual, talking about something else, when she sud- 
denly remarked, 

“ I suppose that Count Von Rosen is as poor as Prussian lieu- 
tenants generally are ?” 

“On the contrary,” said I, “he enjoys a very handsome Fa- 
milien-Stiftung, or family bequest, which gives him a certain sum 
of money every six months, on condition that during that time 
he has either travelled so much or gone through such and such 
a course of study. I wish the legacies left in our country had 
sometimes those provisions attached.” 

“ He has some money, then ?” said my lady, thoughtfully. 

“ My dear,” said I, “ you seem to be very anxious about the 
future, like the man whose letter I read to you yesterday.^ Have 
you any further questions to ask ?” 

“ I suppose he cares for nothing but eating and drinking and 
smoking, like other officers ? He has not been troubled by any 
very great sentimental crisis ?” 

“ On the contrary,” I repeated, “ he wrote me a despairing let- 
ter, some fortnight before the war broke out, about that same 
Fraulein Fallersleben whom we saw acting in the theatre at 
Hanover. She had treated him very badly — she had — ” 

“ Oh, that is all nothing,” said Tita, hastily — and here she 
glanced rather nervously at Bell. 

Bell, for her part, was unconcernedly fitting a pink collar on a 
white cat, and talking to that pretty but unresponsive animal. 

“ He left her,” I remarked again, “ in paroxysms of anger and 
mutual reproach. He accused her of having — ” 

“ Well, well, that will do,” says Queen Titania, in her coldest 
manner ; and then, of course, everybody obeys the small woman. 


* This is the letter : 

“ To th£ Editor of the ^Hampshire ^ss.’ 

“ Sir, — If the Republicans who are endeavoring to introduce a Republic 
into this great country should accomplish their disgusting purpose, do you 
think they will repudiate the National Debt, and pay no more interest on the 
Consols ? I am, sir, your obedient servant, A Lover op Mankind, 

“ Bogmere, January 18th, 18T1.” 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


15 


That was the last that was heard of Von Rosen for many a 
day ; and it was not until some time after the war was over that 
he favored us with a communication. He was still in France. 
He hoped to get over to England at the end of July ; and as 
that was the time we had fixed for our journey from London 
to Edinburgh, along the old coach -roads, he became insensibly 
mixed up with the project;^ until it was finally resolved to ask 
him to join the party. 

“ I know you mean to marry these two,” I said to the person 
who rules over us all. 

“ How absurd you are !” she replied, with a vast assumption of 
dignity. “Bell is as good as engaged — even if there was any 
fear of a handsome young Englishwoman falling in love with a 
Prussian lieutenant who is in despair about an actress.” 

“ You had better take a wedding-ring with you.” 

“A wedding-ring!” said Tita, with a little curl of her lips. 
“You fancy that a girl thinks of nothing but that. Every wed- 
ding-ring that is worn represents a man’s impertinence and a 
woman’s folly.” 

“Ask Bell,” said I. 


CHAPTER II. 

A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 

“ From the bleak coast that hears 
The German Ocean roar, deep-blooming, strong. 

And yellow-haired, the blue-eyed Saxon came.” 

No more fitting point of departure could have been chosen 
than the Old Bell Inn in Holbom, an ancient hostelry which used 
in by-gone times to send its relays of stage-coaches to Oxford, 
Cheltenham, Enfield, Abingdon, and a score of other places. 
Now, from the quaint little yard, which is surrounded by frail 
and dilapidated galleries of wood, that tell of the grandeur of 
other days, there starts but a solitary omnibus, which daily 
whisks a few country people and their parcels down to Ux- 
bridge, and Chalfont, and Amersham, and Wendover. The ve- 
hicle which Mr. Thoroughgood has driven for many a year is no 
magnificent blue-and-scarlet drag, with teams costing six hundred 


16 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

guineas apiece, with silver harness, a post-boy blowing a silver 
horn, and a lord handling the reins ; but a rough and serviceable 
little coach which is worked for profit, and which is of vast con- 
venience to the folks living in quiet Buckinghamshire villages 
apart from railways. From this old-fashioned inn, now that the 
summer had come round, and our long-looked-for journey to the 
North had come near, we had resolved to start ; and Bell having 
gravely pointed out the danger of letting our young Uhlan leave 
London hungry — lest habit should lead him to seize something 
by the way, and so get us into trouble — it was further proposed 
that we should celebrate our setting-out with a luncheon of good 
roast beef and ale, in the snug little parlor which abuts on the 
yard. 

“ And I hope,” said Queen Titania, as we escaped from the 
roar of Holborn into the archway of the inn, “that the stupid 
fellow has got himself decently dressed. Otherwise, we shall be 
mobbed.” 

The fact was that Count Von Rosen, not being aware that 
English oflScers rarely appear when off duty in uniform, had come 
straight from St. Denis to Calais, and from Calais to London, 
and from London to Leatherhead, without ever dreaming that he 
ought not to go about in his regimentals. He drew no distinc- 
tion between Herr Graf Von Rosen and Seiner Majestat Lieute- 
nant im — ten Uhlanen-Regimente ; although he told us that when 
he issued from his hotel at Charing Cross to get into a cab, he 
was surprised to see a small crowd collect around the hansom, 
and no less surprised to observe the absence of military costume 
in the streets. Of course, the appearance of an Uhlan in the 
quiet village of Leatherhead caused a profound commotion ; and 
had not Castor and Pollux been able to distance the crowd of 
little boys who fiocked around him at the station, it is probable 
he would have arrived at our house attended by that concourse 
of admirers. 

You should have seen the courteous and yet half-defiant way 
in which the women received him, as if they were resolved not to 
be overawed by the tall, browned, big -bearded man; and how, 
in about twenty minutes, they had insensibly got quite familiar 
with him, apparently won over by his careless laughter, by the 
honest stare of his light-blue eyes, and by a very boyish blush 
that sometimes overspread his handsome face when he stammered 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


17 


over an idiom, or was asked some question about his own ex- 
ploits. Bell remained the most distant ; but I could see that our 
future companion had produced a good impression on my lady, 
for she began to take the management of him, and to give him 
counsel in a minute and practical manner, which is a sure mark 
of her favor. She told him he must put aside his uniform while 
in England. She described to him the ordinary costume worn 
by English gentlemen in travelling. And then she hoped he 
would take a preparation of quinine with him, considering that 
we should have to stay in a succession of strange inns, and might 
be exposed to damp. 

He went up to London that night, armed with a list of articles 
which he was to buy for himself before starting with us. 

There was a long pause when we three found ourselves to- 
gether again. At length Bell said, with rather an impatient air, 

“ He is only a school-boy, after all. Why should he continue 
to call you Madame^ and me Mademoiselle, just as he did when 
he knew us first at Bonn, and gave us these names as a joke ? 
Then he has the same irritating habit of laughing that he used 
to have there. I hate a man who has his mouth always open — 
like a swallow in the air, trying to catch anything that may come. 
And he is worse, I think, when he closes his lips and tries to give 
himself an intellectual look, like — like — ” 

“Like what, Belir 

“ Like a calf posing itself, and trying to look like a red deer,” 
said Bell, with a sort of contemptuous warmth. 

“ I wish. Bell,” said my lady, coldly and severely, “ that you 
would give up those rude metaphors. You talk just as you did 
when you came fresh from Westmoreland — you have learned 
nothing.” 

Bell’s only answer was to walk, with rather a proud air, to the 
piano, and there she sat down and played a few bars. She would 
not speak ; but the well-known old air spoke for her, for it said, 
as plain as words could say, 

“A North-country maid up to London had strayed. 

Although with her nature it did not agree ; 

She wept, and she sighed, and she bitterly cried, 

‘ I wish once again in the North I could be !’ ” 

“ I think,” continued Tita, in measured tones, “ that he is a 
very agreeable and trustworthy young man — not very polished, 


18 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


perhaps — but, then, he is a German. I look forward with great 
interest to see in what light our English country life will strike 
him ; and I hope. Bell, that he will not have to complain of the 
want of courtesy shown him by Englishwomen.” 

This was getting serious ; so, being to some small and unde- 
fined extent master in my own house, I commanded Bell to sing 
the song she was petulantly strumming. That “fetched” Tita. 
Whenever Bell began to sing one of those old English ballads, 
which she did for the most part from morning till night, there 
was a strange and tremulous thrill in her voice that would have 
disarmed her bitterest enemy ; and straightway my lady would 
be seen to draw over to the girl, and put her arm round her 
shoulder, and then reward her, when the last chord of the accom- 
paniment had been struck, with a grateful kiss. In the present 
instance the charm worked as usual ; but no sooner had these two 
young people been reconciled than they turned on their mutual 
benefactor. Indeed, an observant stranger might have remarked 
in this household, that when anything remotely bearing on a 
quarrel was made up between any two of its members, the third, 
the peace-maker, was expected to propose a dinner at Greenwich. 
The custom would have been more becoming, had the cost been 
equally distributed ; but there were three losers to one payer. 

Well, when we got into the yard of the Old Bell, the Bucking- 
hamshire omnibus was being loaded ; and among the first objects 
we saw was the stalwart figure of Von Rosen, who was talking to 
Mr. Thoroughgood as if he had known him all his life, and ex- 
amining with a curious and critical eye the construction and ac- 
commodation of the venerable old vehicle. We saw with some 
satisfaction that he was now dressed in a suit of gray garments, 
with a wide-awake hat; and, indeed, there was little to distin- 
guish him from an Englishman but the curious blending of color 
— from the tawny yellow of his mustache to the deep brown of 
his cropped beard — which is seldom absent from the hirsute dec- 
oration of a Prussian face. 

He came forward with a grave and ceremonious politeness to 
Queen Titania, who received him in her dignified, quaint, mater- 
nal fashion ; and he shook hands with Bell with an obviously un- 
conscious air of indifference. Then, not noticing her silence, he 
talked to her, after we had gone inside, of the old-fashioned air 
of homeliness and comfort noticeable in the inn, of the ancient 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


19 


portraits, and the quaint fireplace, and the small busts placed 
about. Bell seemed rather vexed that he should address himself 
to her, and uttered scarcely a word in reply. 

But when our plain and homely meal was served, this restraint 
gradually wore away ; and in the talk over our coming advent- 
ures, Bell abandoned herself to all sorts of wild anticipations. 
She forgot the presence of the German lieutenant. Her eyes 
were fixed on the North Country, and on summer nights up amidst 
the Westmoreland hills, and on bright mornings up by the side 
of the Scotch lochs ; and while the young soldier looked gravely 
at her, and even seemed a trifle surprised, she told us of all the 
dreams and visions she had had of the journey, for weeks and 
months back, and how the pictures of it had been with her night 
and day until she was almost afraid the reality would not bear 
them out. Then she described — as if she were gifted with sec- 
ond-sight — the various occupations we should have to follow dur- 
ing the long afternoons in the North ; and how she had brought 
her guitar that Queen Titania might sing Spanish songs to it; 
and how we should listen to the corn-crake ; and how she would 
make studies of all the favorite places we came to, and perhaps 
might even construct a picture of our phaeton and Castor and 
Pollux — with a background of half a dozen counties — for some 
exhibition ; and how, some day in the far future, when the mem- 
ory of our long excursion had grown dim, Tita would walk into a 
room in Pall Mall, and there, with the picture before her, would 
turn round with wonder in her eyes, as if it were a revelation. 

“ Because,” said Bell, turning seriously to the young Uhlan, 
and addressing him as though she had talked familiarly to him for 
years, “you mustn’t suppose that our Tita is anything but a hyp- 
ocrite. All her coldness and affectation of grandeur are only a 
pretence ; and sometimes if you watch her eyes — and she is not 
looking at you — you will see something come up to the surface 
of them as if it were her real heart and soul there, looking out in 
wonder and softness at some beautiful thing — just like a dab- 
chick, you know, when you are watching among bushes by a 
river, and are quite still ; and then, if you make the least remark, 
if you rustle your dress, snap ! down goes the dabchick, and you 
see nothing, and my lady turns to you quite proudly and coldly 
— though there may be tears in her eyes — and dares you to think 
that she has shown any emotion.” 


20 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

“ That is, when she is listening to your singing,” said the lieu- 
tenant, gravely and politely ; and at this moment Bell seemed to 
become conscious that we were all amused by her vehemence, 
blushed prodigiously, and was barely civil to our Uhlan for half 
an hour after. 

Nevertheless, she had every reason to be in a good humor ; for 
we had resolved to limit our travels that day to Twickenham, 
where, in the evening, Tita was to see her two boys who were at 
school there. And as the young gentleman of the Temple, who 
has already been briefly mentioned in this narrative, is a son of 
the school-master with whom the boys were then living, and as 
he was to be of the farewell party assembled in Twickenham at 
night. Bell had no unpleasant prospects before her for that day 
at least. And of one thing she was probably by that time thor- 
oughly assured ; no flres of jealousy were in danger of being kin- 
dled in any sensitive breast by the manner of Count Von Rosen 
towards her. Of course he was very courteous and obliging to 
a pretty young woman ; but he talked almost exclusively to my 
lady ; while, to state the plain truth, he seemed to pay more at- 
tention to his luncheon than to both of them together. 

Behold, then, our phaeton ready to start ! The pair of pretty 
bays are pawing the hard stones and pricking their ears at the 
unaccustomed sounds of Holborn. Sandy is at their head, re- 
garding them rather dolefully, as if he feared to let them slip 
from his care to undertake so long and perilous a voyage : Queen 
Titania has arranged that she shall sit behind, to show the young 
Prussian all the remarkable things on our route; and Bell, as 
she gets up in front, begs to have the reins given her so soon 
as we get away from the crowded thoroughfares. There are still 
a few loiterers on the pavement who had assembled to see the 
Wendover omnibus leave ; and these regard with a languid sort 
of curiosity the setting-out of the party in the big dark-green 
phaeton. 

A little tossing of heads and prancing, a little adjustment of the 
reins, and a final look round, and then we glide into the wild and 
roaring stream of vehicles — that mighty current of rolling vans 
and heavy wagons and crowded Bayswater omnibuses, of dexter- 
ous hansoms and indolent four-wheelers, of brewers’ drays and 
post-office carts and coster - mongers’ barrows. Over the great 
thoroughfare, with its quaint and huddled houses and its innu- 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


21 


merable shops, dwell a fine blue shy and white clouds that seem 
oddly discolored. The sky, seen through a curious pall of mist 
and smoke, is only gray, and the clouds are distant and dusky and 
yellow, like those of an old landscape that has lain for years in a 
broker’s shop. Then there is a faint glow of sunlight shining 
along the houses on the northern side of the street ; and here and 
there the window of some lobster-shop or tavern glints back the 
light. As we get farther westward, the sky overhead gets clearer, 
and the character of the thoroughfare alters. Here we are at the 
street leading up to the British Museum — a Mudie and a Moses 
on each hand — and it would almost seem as if the Museum had 
sent out rays of influence to create around it a series of smaller 
collections. In place of the humble fish-monger and the familiar 
hosier, we have owners of large windows filled with curious treas- 
ures of art — old-fashioned jewellery, china, knick-knacks of furni- 
ture, silver spoons and kettles, and stately portraits of the time of 
Charles II., in which the women have all beaded black eyes, yel- 
low curls, and a false complexion, while the men are fat, pompous, 
and wigged. Westward still, and we approach the huge shops 
and warehouses of Oxford Street, where the last waves of fash- 
ionable life, seeking millinery, beat on the eastern barriers that 
shut out the rest of London. Regent Street is busy on this quiet 
afternoon ; and Bell asks in a whisper whether the countryman of 
Bliicher, now sitting behind us, does not betray in his eyes what 
he thinks of this vast show of wealth. Listening for a moment, 
we hear that Queen Titania, instead of talking to him about the 
shops, is trying to tell him what London was in the last century, 
and how Colonel Jack and his associates, before that enterprising 
youth started to walk from London to Edinburgh to avoid the 
law, used to waylay travellers in the fields between Gray’s Inn and 
St. Pancras, and how, having robbed a coach between Hyde Park 
Gate and Knightsbridge, they “ went over the fields to Chelsea.” 
This display of erudition on the part of my lady has evidently 
been prepared beforehand ; for she even goes the length of quoting 
dates and furnishing a few statistics — a thing which no woman 
does inadvertently. However, when we get into Pall Mall, her 
ignorance of the names of the clubs reveals the superficial nature 
of her acquirements ; for even Bell is able to recognize the Re- 
form, assisted, doubtless, by the polished pillars of the Carlton. 
The women are, of course, eager to know which is the Prince of 


22 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Wales’s Club, and afterward look with quite a peculiar interest 
on the brick-wall of Marlborough House. 

“ Now,” says our Bonny Bell, as w^e get into the quiet of St. 
James’s Park, where the trees of the long avenue and the shrub- 
bery around the ponds look quite pleasant and fresh even un- 
der the misty London sunlight ; “ now you must let me have the 
reins. I am wearying to get away from the houses, and be really 
on the road to Scotland. Indeed, I shall not feel that we have 
actually set out until we leave Twickenham, and are fairly on the 
old coach-road at Hounslow.” 

I looked at Bell. She did not blush ; but calmly waited to 
take the reins. I had then to point out to the young hypocrite 
that her wiles were of no avail. She was not anxious to be be- 
yond Twickenham ; she was chiefly anxious to get down thither. 
Notwithstanding that she knew we had chosen a capricious and 
roundabout road to reach this first stage on our journey, merely 
to show Von Rosen something of London and its suburban beau- 
ties, she was looking with impatience to the long circuit by Clap- 
ham Common, Wimbledon, and Richmond Park. Therefore she 
was not in a condition to be intrusted with the safety of so valu- 
able a freight. 

“ I am not impatient,” said Bell, with her color a trifle height- 
ened : “ I do not care whether we ever get to Twickenham. I 
would as soon go to Henley to-night, and to-morrow to Oxford. 
But it is just like a man to make a great bother and go in pro- 
digious circles to reach a trifling distance. You go circling and 
circling like the minute-hand of a clock ; but the small hand, that 
takes it easy, and makes no clatter of ticking, finds at twelve 
o’clock that it has got quite as far as its big companion.” 

“ This, Bell,” I remarked, “ is impertinence.” 

“ Will you give me the reins ?” 

“ No.” 

Bell turned half round, and leaned her arm on the lowered 
hood. 

“ My dear,” she said to Queen Titania — who had been telling 
the count something about Buckingham Palace — “ we have for- 
gotten one thing. What are we to do when our companions 
are disagreeable during the day? In the evening we can read, 
or sing, or walk about by ourselves. But during the day, Tita? 
When we are imprisoned, how are we to escape ?” 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


23 


‘‘We shall put you in the imperial, if you are not a good girl,” 
said my lady, with a gracious sweetness ; and then she turned to 
the count. 

It would have been cruel to laugh at Bell. For a minute or 
two after meeting with this rebuff, she turned rather away from 
us, and stared with a fine assumption of proud indifference down 
the Vauxhall Bridge Road. But presently a lurking smile began 
to appear about the corners of her mouth ; and at last she cried 
out, 

“Well, there is no use quarrelling with a married man, for he 
never pets you. He is familiar with the trick of it, I suppose, 
and looks on like an old juggler watching the efforts of an ama- 
teur. See how lovely the river is up there by Chelsea ! — the long 
reach of rippling gray, the green of the trees, and the curious sil- 
very light that almost hides the heights beyond. We shall see 
the Thames often, shall we not ? and then the Severn, and then 
the Solway, and then the great Frith of the Forth ? When I 
think of it, I feel like a bird — a lark fiuttering up in happiness — 
and seeing farther and farther every minute. To see the Solway, 
you know, you have to be up almost in the blue ; and then all 
around you there rises the wide plain of England, with fields and 
woods and streams. Fancy being able to see as far as a vulture, 
and to go swooping on for leagues and leagues — now up amidst 
white peaks of snow — or down through some great valley — or 
across the sea in the sunset. And only fancy that some evening 
you might find the spectral ship beginning to appear in pale fire 
in the mist of the horizon — coming on towards you without a 
sound — do you know, that is the most terrible legend ever 
thought of !” 

“ What has a vulture to do with the Flying Dutchman ?” said 
my Lady Tita, suddenly ; and Bell turned with a start to find her 
friend’s head close to her own. “ You are becoming incoherent, 
Bell, and your eyes are as wild as if you were really looking at 
the phantom ship. Why are you not driving ?” 

“ Because I am not allowed,” said Bell. 

However, when we got into the Clapham Road, Bell had her 
wish. She took her place with the air of a practised whip ; and 
did not even betray any nervousness when a sudden whistle be- 
hind us warned her that she was in the way of a tram-way car. 
Moreover, she managed to subdue so successfully her impatience 


24 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


to get to Twickenliam, that she was able to take us in the gentlest 
manner possible up and across Clapham Common, down through 
Wandsworth, and up again towards Wimbledon. When, at length, 
we got to the brow of the hill that overlooks the long and un- 
dulating stretches of furze, the admiration of our Prussian friend, 
which had been called forth by the various parks and open spaces 
in and around London, almost rose to the pitch of enthusiasm. 

“ Is it the sea down there, yes ?” he asked, looking towards 
the distant tent-poles, which certainly resembled a small forest of 
masts in the haze of the sunshine. “It is not the sea? I almost 
expect to reach the shore always in England. Yet why have you 
so beautiful places like this around London — so much more beau- 
tiful than the sandy country around our Berlin — and no one to 
come to it? You have more than three millions of people — here 
is a playground — why do they not come ? And Clapham Com- 
mon too, it is not used for people to walk in, as we should use it 
in Germany, and have a pleasant seat in a garden, and the women 
sewing until their husbands and friends come in the evening, and 
music to make it pleasant, afterward. It is nothing — a waste — 
a landscape — very beautiful — but not used. You have children 
on donkeys, and boys playing their games — that is very good — 
but it is not enough. And here, this beautiful park, all thrown 
away — no one here at all. Why does not your Lord Mayor see 
the — the requirement — of drawing away large numbers of people 
from so big a town for fresh air ; and make here some amuse- 
ments ?” 

“Consider the people who live all around,” said my lady, 
“ and what they would have to suJler.” 

“ Suffer !” said the young Prussian, with his eyes staring ; “ I 
do not understand you. For people to walk through gardens, 
and smoke, and drink a glass or two of beer, or sit under the 
trees and sew or read — surely that is not offensive to any person. 
And here the houses are miles away — you cannot see them down 
beyond the windmill there.” 

“Did you ever hear of such things as manorial rights, and 
freeholders, and copyholders, and the Statute of Merton?” he is 
asked. 

“All that is nothing — a fiction,” he retorted. “You have a 
Government in this country representing the people; why not 
take all these commons and use them for the people? And if 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


25 


the Government has not courage to do that, why do not your 
municipalities, which are rich, buy up the land, and provide 
amusements, and draw the people into the open air ?” 

My Lady Tita could scarce believe her ears on hearing a Prus- 
sian aristocrat talk thus coolly of confiscation, and exhibit no 
more reverence for the traditional rights of property than if he 
were a Parisian socialist. But, then, these boys of twenty -five 
will dance over the world’s edge in pursuit of a theory. 

Here, too, as Bell gently urged our horses forward towards the 
crest of the slope leading down to Baveley Bridge, Von Rosen 
got his first introduction to an English landscape. All around 
him lay the brown stretches of sand and the blue-green clumps 
of furze of the commou ; on either side of the wide and well- 
made road, the tall banks were laden with a tangled luxuriance of 
brushwood and bramble and wild flowers; down in the hollow 
beneath us there were red-tiled farm-buildings half hidden in a 
green maze of elms and poplars ; then the scattered and irregular 
fields and meadows, scored with hedges and dotted with houses, 
led up to a series of heights that were wooded with every variety 
of forest tree ; while over all these undulations and plains there 
lay that faint presence of mist which only served to soften the 
glow of the afternoon sunshine, and show us the strong colors of 
the picture through a veil of tender ethereal gray. 

We go down the hill, and roll along the valley. 

“This is the Robin Hood Gate,” says Queen Tita. “Have 
you heard of Robin Hood, Count Von Rosen?” 

“ Oh yes. He was one of those picturesque men that we have 
many of in our German stories. We like huntsmen, outlaws, 
and such people ; and the German boys, they do know of Robin 
Hood as much as of William Tell.” 

“ But then, you know,” says Tita, gravely, “ Robin Hood was 
a real person.” 

“ And was not William Tell ?” 

“They say not.” 

The lieutenant laughed. 

“Madame,” he said, “I did not know you were so learned. 
But if there was no William Tell, are you sure there was any 
Robin Hood?” 

“ Oh yes, I am quite sure,” said my lady, earnestly ; which 
closed this chapter of profound historical criticism. 


26 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

Richmond Park, in the stillness of a fine sunset, was worth 
bringing a foreigner to see. The ruddy light from the west was 
striking here and there among the glades under the oaks ; across 
the bars of radiance and shadow the handsome little bucks and 
long-necked does were lightly passing and repassing ; while there 
were rabbits in thousands trotting in and about the brackens, 
with an occasional covey of young partridges alternately regard- 
ing us with upstretched necks and then running off a few yards 
farther. But after we had bowled along the smooth and level 
road, up and through the avenues of stately oaks, past the small 
lakes (one of them, beyond the shadow of a dark wood, gleamed 
like a line of gold), and up to the summit of Richmond Hill, 
Queen Titania had not a word to say further in pointing out the 
beauties of the place. She had been officiating as conductor, but 
it was with the air of a proprietress. Now, as we stopped the 
phaeton on the crest of the hill, she was silent. 

Far away behind us lay the cold green of the eastern sky, and 
under it the smoke of London lay red and brown, while in the 
extreme distance we could see dim traces of houses, and down in 
the south a faint rosy mist. Some glittering yellow rays showed 
us where the Crystal Palace, high over the purple shadows of 
Sydenham, caught the sunlight; and up by Netting Hill, too, 
there were one or two less distinct glimmerings of glass. But 
when we turned to the west, no such range of vision was permit- 
ted to us. All over the bed of the river there lay across the 
western sky a confused glare of pale gold — not a distinct sunset, 
with sharp lines of orange and blood-red fire, but a bewildering 
haze that blinded the eyes and was rather ominous for the mor- 
row. Along the horizon, 

“ Where, enthroned in adamantine state. 

Proud of her bards, imperial Windsor sits,” 

there was no trace of the gray towers to be made out but a con- 
fused and level mass of silver streaks and lines of blue. Near- 
er at hand, the spacious and wooded landscape seemed almost 
dark under the glare of the sky ; and the broad windings of the 
Thames lay white and clear between the soft green of the Twick- 
enham shores and the leafy masses of “ umbrageous Ham.” 

“Doesn’t it seem as though the strange light away up there in 
the north and out in the west lav over some unknown country,” 


A LUNCHEON IN HOLBORN. 


27 


said Bell, with her eyes filled with the glamour of the sunset, 
“ and that to-morrow we were to begin our journey into a great 
prairie, and leave houses and people forever behind us? You 
can see no more villages, but only miles and miles of woods and 
plains, until you come to a sort of silver mist, and that might be 
the sea.” 

“And a certain young lady stands on the edge of this wild 
and golden desert, and a melancholy look comes into her eyes. 
For she is fond of houses and her fellow-creatures, and here, just 
close at hand — down there, in Twickenham, in fact — there is a 
comfortable dining-room and some pleasant friends, and one at- 
tentive person in particular, who is perhaps a little sorry to bid 
her good-by. Yet she does not falter. To-morrow morning 
she will hold out her hand — a tender and wistful smile will only 
half convey her sadness — ” 

Here Bell rapidly but lightly touched Pollux with the whip ; 
both the horses sprung forward with a jerk that had nearly 
thrown the lieutenant into the road (for he was standing up and 
holding on by the hood) ; and then, without another word, she 
rattled us down into Richmond. Getting sharply round the cor- 
ner, she pretty nearly had a wheel taken off by the omnibus that 
was standing in front of the King’s Head, and just escaped 
knocking down a youth in white costume and boating shoes, who 
jumped back on the pavement with an admirable dexterity. Nor 
would she stop to give us a look at the Thames from the bridge 
— we only caught a glimpse of the broad bend of the water, the 
various boats and their white-clad crews, the pleasant river-paths, 
and the green and wooded heights all around. She swept us on 
along the road leading into Twickenham, past the abodes of the 
Orleanist princes, and into the narrow streets of the village itself, 
until, with a proud and defiant air, she pulled the horses up in 
front of Dr. Ashburton’s house. 

There was a young man at the window. She pretended not to 
see him. 

When the servants had partly got our luggage out, the young 
man made his appearance, and came forward, in rather a fright- 
ened way, as I thought, to pay his respects to my Lady Tita and 
Bell. Then he glanced at the Uhlan, who was carefully examin- 
ing the horses’ fetlocks and hoofs. Finally, as the doctor had no 
stables. Master Arthur informed us that he had made arrange- 


28 


THE fiTRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


merits about putting up the horses ; and, while the rest of us went 
into the house, he volunteered to take the phaeton round to the 
inn. He and the count went off together. 

Then there was a wild commotion on the first landing, a con- 
fused tumble and rush down-stairs, and presently Bell and Tita 
were catching up two boys and hugging them, and pulling out all 
sorts of mysterious presents. 

“Heh! how fens tee, Jeck? gayly?” cried Auntie Bell, whose 
broad Cumberlandshire vastly delighted the youngsters. “ Why, 
Twom, thou’s grovvin’ a big lad — thou mud as weel be a sodger 
as at schuil. Can tee dance a whornpipe yet? — what, nowther 
o’ ye ? Dost think I’s gaun to gie a siller watch to twa feckless 
fallows that canna dance a whornpipe ?” 

But here Bell’s mouth was stopped by a multitude of kisses ; 
and, having had to confess that the two silver watches were really 
in her pocket, she was drawn into the parlor by the two boys, 
and made to stand and deliver. 


CHAPTER HI. 

“PRINZ EUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER.” 

“ What can Tommy Onslow do ? 

He can drive a phaeton and two. 

Can Tommy Onslow do no more ?” 

Meanwhile, what had become of the lieutenant and Arthur, 
and Castor and Pollux, to say nothing of the phaeton, which had 
now been transferred from its accustomed home in Surrey to 
spend a night under a shed in Twickenham ? The crooked by- 
ways and narrow streets of that curious little village were getting 
rapidly darker under the falling dusk, and here and there orange 
lamps were beginning to shine in the blue-gray of the twilight, 
when I set out to discover the stable to which our horses had 
been confided. I had got but half-way to the public-house, when 
I met Arthur. The ordinarily mild and gentle face of this young 
man which would be quite feminine in character, but for a soft, 
pale-yellow mustache — looked rather gloomy. 

‘‘ Where is the count ?” I asked of him. 


29 


“PRINZ EUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER.” 

“ Do you mean that German fellow ?” he said. 

The poor young man ! It was easy to detect the cause of that 
half-angry contempt with which he spoke of our lieutenant. It 
was jealousy with its green eyes and dark imaginings ; and the 
evening, I could see, promised us a pretty spectacle of the farce 
of Bell and the Dragon. At present I merely requested Master 
Arthur to answer my question. 

“Well,” said he, with a fine expression of irony — the unhappy 
wretch ! as if it were not quite obvious that he was more inclined 
to cry — “ if you want to keep him out of the police-office, you’d 

better go down to the stables of the . He has raised a pretty 

quarrel there, I can tell you — kicked the hostler half across the 
yard — knocked heaps of things to smithereens — and is ordering 
everybody about, and fuming and swearing in a dozen different 
inarticulate languages. I wish you joy of your companion. You 
will have plenty of adventures by the way ; but what will you do 
with all the clocks you gather?” 

“ Go home, you stupid boy, and thank God you have not the 
gift of sarcasm. Bell is waiting for you. You will talk very sen- 
sibly to her, I dare say ; but don’t make any jokes — not for some 
years to come.” 

Arthur went his way into the twilight, as wretched a young 
man as there was that evening in Twickenham. 

Now in front of the public-house, and adjoining the entrance 
into the yard, a small and excited crowd had collected of all the 
idlers and loungers who hang about the doors of a tavern. In 
the middle of them — as you could see when the yellow light from 
the window streamed through a chink in the cluster of human 
figures — there was a small, square-set, bandy-legged man, with a 
red waistcoat, a cropped head, and a peaked cap, with the peak 
turned sideways. He was addressing his companions alternately 
in an odd mixture of Buckinghamshire patois and Middlesex pro- 
nunciation, somewhat in this fashion : 

“ I baint afeard of ’m, or any other darned fiirrener, the . 

An’ I’ve looked arter awsses afore he wur born, and I’d like to see 
the mahn as ’ll tell me what I don’t know about ’m. I’ve kept 
my plaace for fifteen yur, and I’ll bet the coot on my bahck as 
my missus ’ll say, there niver wur a better in the plaace ; an’ as 

fur thaht furrener in there, the law ’ll teach him summut, 

or I’m werry much mistaken. Eh, Arry ? Bain’t I right ?” 


30 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


This impassioned appeal from the excited small man was fol- 
lowed by a general chorus of assent. 

I made my way down the yard, between the shafts of dog-carts, 
and the poles of disabled omnibuses that loomed from out the 
darkness of a long and low shed. Down at the foot of this nar- 
row and dusky channel a stable-door was open, and the faint yel- 
low light occasionally caught the figure of a man who was busy 
grooming a horse outside. As I picked my way over the rough 
stones, I could hear that he was occasionally interrupting the hiss- 
ing noise peculiar to the work with a snatch of a song, carelessly 
sung in a deep and sufficiently powerful voice. What was it he 
sung ? 

Eugen^ der edle Ritter — hisssssss — wolW dem Kaiser 
wiedrum kriegen — wo ! my beauty — so ho ! — Stadt und Festung 
Belgarad! — hold up, my lad ! wo ho !” 

“ Hillo, Oswald, what are you about 

“ Oh, only looking after the horses,” said our young Uhlan, 
slowly raising himself up. 

He was in a remarkable state of undress — his coat, waistcoat, 
and collar having been thrown on the straw inside the stable — 
and he held in his hand a brush. 

“The fellows at this inn they are very ignorant of horses, or 
very careless.” 

“ I hear you have been kicking ’em all about the place.” 

“Why not? You go in to have a glass of beer and see the 
people. You come back to the stables. The man says he has 
fed the horses — it is a lie. He says he has groomed them — it is a 
lie. J ott in Himmel ! can I not see ? Then I drive him away — 
I take out corn for myself, also some beans — he comes back — he 
is insolent — I fling him into the yard — he falls over the pail — he 
lies and groans — that is very good for him ; it will teach him to 
mind his business, not to tell lies, and to steal the price of the 
corn.” 

I pointed out to this cool young person that if he went kicking 
insolent hostlers all over the country, he would get us into trouble. 

“ Is it not a shame they do not know their work ? and that they 
will ruin good horses to steal a sixpence from you, yes ?” 

“ Besides,” I said, “ it is not prudent to quarrel with an hostler, 
for you must leave your horses under his care ; and if he should 
be ill-natured, he may do them a mischief during the night.” 


31 


“PRINZ EUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER.” 

The count laughed, as he untied the halter and led Pollux into 
a loose box. 

“Do not be alarmed. I never allow any man to lock up my 
horses if I am among strangers. I do that myself. I will lock 
up this place and take the key, and to-morrow at six I will come 
round and see them fed. No ! you must not object. It is a 
great pleasure of mine to look after horses, and I shall become 
friends with these two in a very few days. You must let me 
manage them always.” 

“ And groom them twice a day ?” 

“Aee, Jott hewahre! When there is a man who can do it, I 
will not; but when there is no one, it is a very good thing to 
help yourself.” 

Lieutenant Oswald Von Rosen had clearly learned how to con- 
jugate the verb requiriren during his sojourn in Bohemia and in 
France. He made another raid on the corn and split beans, got 
up into the loft, and crammed down plenty of hay, and then 
bringing a heap of clean straw into the place, tossed it plentifully 
about the loose box devoted to Pollux, and about Castor’s stall. 
Then he put on his upper vestments, brought away the candle, 
locked the door, and put the key in his pocket, humming all the 
time something about ^^die dreimal hunderttausend Mann.’’' 

When we had got to the gate of the yard, he stalked up to the 
small crowd of idlers, and said, 

“ Which of you is the man who did tumble over the pail ? Is 
it you, you little fellow? Well, you deserve much more than 
you got, yes ; but here is a half-crown for you to buy sticking- 
plaster with.” 

The small hostler held back, but his companions, who perceived 
that the half-crown meant beer, urged him to go forward and 
take it ; which he did, saying, 

“ Well, I doan’t bear no malice.” 

“And next time that you have gentlemen’s horses put into 
your stables, don’t try to steal the price of their corn,” said the 
lieutenant ; and with that he turned and walked away. 

“ Who is the gentleman who came with me ?” asked my young 
friend, as we went back to the house ; “ he is a nice young man, 
but he does not know the difference between hay and straw, and 
I begged him not to remain. And he would not drink the beer 
of this public-house ; but that is the way of all you Englishmen 


32 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


— you are so particular about things, and always thinking of your 
health, and always thinking of living, instead of living and think- 
ing nothing about it. Ah, you do not know how fine a thing it 
is to live until you have been in a campaign, my dear friend ; 
and then you know how fine it is that you can eat with great 
hunger, and how fine it is when you get a tumbler of wine, and 
how fine it is to sleep. You are very glad, then, to be able to 
walk firm on your legs, and find yourself alive and strong. But 
always, I think, your countrymen do not enjoy being alive so 
much as mine; they are always impatient for something, trying 
to do something, hoping for something, instead of being satisfied 
of finding every day a good new day, and plenty of satisfaction 
in it, with talking to people, and seeing things, and a cigar now 
and again. Just now, when I wake, I laugh to myself, and say, 
‘How very good it is to sleep in a bed, and shut yourself out 
from noise, and get up when you please !’ Then you have a 
good breakfast, and all the day begins afresh, and you have no 
fear of being crippled and sent off to the hospital. Oh! it is 
very good to have this freedom — this carelessness — this seeing of 
new things and new people every day. And that is a very pret- 
ty young lady become, your Miss Bell : I do remember her only 
a shy little girl, who spoke German with your strange English 
way of pronouncing the vowels, and was very much bashful over 
it. Oh yes, she is very good-looking indeed ; her hair looks as 
if there were streaks of sunshine in the light brown of it, and her 
eyes are very thoughtful, and she has a beautiful outline of the 
chin that makes her neck and throat very pretty. And, you 
know, I rather like the nose not hooked, like most of your En- 
glish young ladies ; when it is a little the other way, and fine, 
and delicate, it makes the face piquant and tender, not haughty 
and cold, nicht wahr ? But she is very English-looking ; I would 
take her as a — as a — a — type, do you call it? — of the pretty 
young Englishwoman, well-formed, open-eyed, with good healthy 
color in her face, and very frank and gentle, and independent all 
at the same time. Oh, she is a very good girl — a very good girl, 
I can see that.” 

“ Yes,” I said, “ I think she will marry that young fellow whom 
you saw to-night.” 

“And that will be very good for him,” he replied, easily; 
“ for she will look after him and give him some common-sense. 


“PRINZ EUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER.” 33 

He is not practical ; he has not seen much ; he is moody, and 
nervous, and thinks greatly about trifles. But I think he will be 
very amiable to her, and that is much. You know, all the best 
women marry stupid men.” 

There was, however, no need for our going into that dangerous 
subject ; for at this moment we arrived at Dr. Ashburton’s house. 
Von Rosen rushed up-stairs to his room, to remove the traces of 
his recent employment ; and then, as we both entered the draw- 
ing-room, we found Bell standing right under the central gase- 
lier, which was pouring its rays down on her wealth of golden- 
brown hair. Indeed, she then deserved all that Von Rosen had 
said about her being a type of our handsomest young Englishwom- 
en — rather tall, well - formed, showing a clear complexion, and 
healthy rosiness in her cheeks, while there was something at once 
defiant and gentle in her look. Comely enough she was to at- 
tract the notice of any stranger ; but it was only those who had 
spent years with her, and had observed all her winning ways, her 
unselfishness, and the rare honor and honesty that lay behind 
all her petty affectations of petulance, who could really tell what 
sort of young person our Bonny Bell was. She was suflBciently 
handsome to draw eyes towards her, 

“ But if ye saw that which no eyes can see, 

The inward beauty of her lovely spirit, 

Garnished with heavenly gifts of high degree. 

Much more then would ye wonder at that sight. 
****** 

There dwell sweet Love and constant Chastity, 

Unspotted Faith, and comely Womanhood, 

Regard of Honor, and mild Modesty.” 

And it must be said that during this evening Bell’s conduct 
was beyond all praise. Arthur Ashburton was rather cold and 
distant towards her, and was obviously in a bad temper. He 
even hovered on the verge of rudeness towards both herself and 
the lieutenant. Now, nothing delighted Bell more than to vary 
the even and pleasant tenor of her life with a series of pretty 
quarrels which had very little element of seriousness in them ; 
but on this evening, when she was provoked into quarrelling in 
earnest, nothing could exceed the good sense, and gentleness, and 
forbearance she showed. At dinner she sat between the young 
barrister and his father, a quiet, little white-haired man in spec* 
3 


34 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OP A PHAETON. 

tacles, with small black eyes that twinkled strangely when he 
made his nervous little jokes, and looked over to his wife — the 
very matter-of-fact and roseate woman who sat at the opposite 
end of the table. The old doctor was a much more pleasant 
companion than his son ; hut Bell, with wonderful moderation, 
did her best to re-establish good relations between the moody 
young barrister and herself. Of course, no woman will prolong 
such overtures indefinitely; and at last the young gentleman 
managed to establish a more serious breach than he had dreamed 
of. For the common talk had drifted back to the then recent 
war, and our lieutenant was telling us a story about three TJhla- 
nen, who had, out of mere bravado, ridden down the main street 
of a French village, and out at the other end, without having 
been touched by the shots fired at them, when young Ashburton 
added, with a laugh, 

“ I suppose they were so padded with the watches and jewellery 
they had gathered on their way that the bullets glanced off.” 

Count Von Rosen looked across the table at this young man 
with a sort of wonder in his eyes ; and then, with admirable self- 
control, he turned to my Lady Tita, and calmly continued the 
story. 

But as for Bell, a blush of shame and exceeding mortification 
overspread her features. No madness of jealousy could excuse 
this open insult to a stranger and a guest. From that moment. 
Bell addressed herself exclusively to the old doctor, and took no 
more notice of his son than if he had been in the moon. She 
was deeply hurt, but she managed to conceal her disappointment ; 
and indeed, when the boys came in after dinner, she had so far 
picked up her spirits as to be able to talk to them in that wild 
way which they regarded with mingled awe and delight. For 
they could not understand how Auntie Bell was allowed to use 
strange words, and even talk Cumberlandshire to the doctor’s 
own face. 

Of course she plied the boys with all sorts of fruit and sweet- 
meats, until Tita, coming suddenly back from the campaign in 
France to the table before her, peremptorily ordered her to cease. 
Then Bell gathered round her the decanters ; the boys had their 
half-glass of wine ; and Bell swept them away with her into the 
drawing-room, when the women left. 

“A very bright young lady— hm !— a very bright and pleasant 


35 


“ PRINZ EUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER.” 

young lady indeed,” said the doctor, stretching out his short legs 
with an air of freedom, and beginning to examine the decan- 
ters. “I don’t wonder the young fellows rave about her; eh, 
Arthur, eh ?” 

Master Arthur rose and left the room. 

“ Touched, eh ?” said the father, with his eyes twinkling vehe- 
mently, and his small gray features twisted into a smile. “ Hit 
hard, eh ? Gad, I don’t wonder at it ; if I were a young fellow 
myself — eh, eh? Claret? Yes. But the young fellows now 
don’t sing about their laughing Lalage, or drink to Glycera, or 
make jokes with Lydia; it is all dreaming, and reading, and sigh- 
ing, eh, eh? That boy of mine has gone mad — heeds nothing 
— is ill-tempered — ” 

“ Very much so, doctor.” 

“ Eh ? Ill-tempered ? Why, his mother daren’t talk to him, 
and we’re glad to have him go up to his chambers again. Our 
young friend here is of another sort ; there is no care about a 
woman tempering the healthy brown of the sun and the weather, 
eh ? — is there, eh ?” 

“ Why, my dear doctor,” cried the lieutenant, with a prodigious 
laugh, “ don’t you think Lydia’s lover — Lydia, die, you know — he 
was very glad to be away from rough sports ? He had other en- 
joyments. I am brown, not because of my wish, but that I have 
been made to work — that is all.” 

The doctor was overjoyed, and, perhaps, a trifle surprised, to 
find that this tall Uhlan, who had just been grooming two horses, 
understood his references to Horace ; and he immediately cried out, 

“ No, no ; you must not lose your health, and your color, and 
your temper. Would you have your friends say of you, who 
have just been through a campaign in France, 

“ ‘ Cur neque militaris 
Inter aequales militat, Gallica nec lupatis 
Temperat ora frenis ?’ 

Eh, eh?” 

Temperat ora frenis — it is a good motto for our driving ex- 
cursion,” said the lieutenant; “but was it your Miss Bell who 
called your two fine horses by such stupid names as Castor and 
Pollux?” 

“ Nevertheless,” said the doctor, eagerly, “ Castor was said to 
have great skill in the management of horses — eh, eh?” 


36 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“Certainly,” said the lieutenant. “And both together they 
foretell good weather, which is a fine thing in driving.” 

“ And they were the gods of boundaries,” cried the doctor. 

“ And they got people out of trouble when everything seemed 
all over,” returned the count ; “ which may also happen to our 
phaeton.” 

“And — and — and” — here the doctor’s small face fairly 
gleamed with a joke, and he broke into a thin, high chuckle — 
“ they ran away with two ladies — eh, eh, eh ? — did they not, did 
they not ?” 

Presently we went into the drawing-room, and there the 
women were found in a wild maze of maps, eagerly discussing 
the various routes to the North, and the comparative attractions 
of different towns. The contents of Mr. Stanford’s shop seemed 
to have been scattered about the room, and Bell had armed her- 
self with an opisometer, which gave her quite an air of impor- 
tance. 

The lieutenant was out of this matter, so he flung himself 
down into an easy-chair, and presently had both of the boys on 
his knees, telling them stories and propounding arithmetical co- 
nundrums alternately. When Queen Tita came to release him, 
the young rebels refused to go ; and one of them declared that 
the count had promised to sing the “ Wacht am Rhein.” 

“ Oh, please, don’t,” said Bell, suddenly turning round, with a 
map of Cumberland half hiding her. “ You don’t know that all 
the organs here have it. But if you would be so very kind as to 
sing us a German song, I will play the accompaniment for you, if 
I know it, and I know a great many.” 

Of course, the women did not imagine that a man who had 
been accustomed to a soldier’s life, and who had just betrayed a 
faculty for grooming horses, was likely to know much more of 
music than a handy chorus ; but the count, lightly saying he 
would not trouble her, went over to the piano, and sat down un- 
noticed amidst the general hum of conversation. 

But the next moment there was sufficient silence. For with a 
crash like thunder — “Hei! das klang wie Ungewitter!” — the 
young lieutenant struck the first chords of “ Prinz Eugen,” and 
with a sort of upward toss of the head, as if he were making 
room for himself, he began to sing Freiligrath’s picturesque sol- 
dier-song: to the wild and warlike and yet stately music which 


“ PRINZ KUGEN, DER EDLE RITTER.” 37 

Dr. Lowe has written for it. What a rare voice he had, too ! — 
deep, strong, and resonant — that seemed to throw itself into the 
daring spirit of the music with an absolute disregard of delicate 
graces or sentimental effect; a powerful, masculine, soldier -like 
voice, that had little flute-like softness, but the strength and thrill 
that told of a deep chest, and that interpenetrated or rose above 
the loudest chords that his ten Angers struck. Queen Tita’s face 
was overspread with surprise ; Bell unconsciously laid down the 
map, and stood as one amazed. The ballad, you know, tells how, 
one calm night on the banks of the Danube, just after the great 
storming of Belgrade, a young trumpeter in the camp determines 
to leave aside cards for awhile, and make a right good song for 
the army to sing ; how he sets to work to tell the story of the 
battle in ringing verse, and at last, when he has got the rhymes 
correct, he makes the notes too, and his song is complete. “ Ho, 
ye white troops and ye red troops, come round and listen !” he 
cries ; and then he sings the record of the great deeds of Prince 
Eugene ; and lo ! as he repeats the air for the third time, there 
breaks forth, with a hoarse roar as of thunder, the chorus “ Prinz 
Eugen, der edle Ritter !” until the sound of it is carried even into 
the Turkish camp. And then the young trumpeter, not dissatis- 
fied with his performance, proudly twirls his mustache; and final- 
ly sneaks away to tell of his triumph to the pretty Marketen- 
derinn. When our young Uhlan rose from the piano, he laughed 
in an apologetic fashion ; but there was still in his face some of 
that glow and fire which had made him forget himself during the 
singing of the ballad, and which had lent to his voice that pene- 
trating resonance that still seemed to linger about the room. 
Bell said “ Thank you ” in rather a timid way ; but Queen Tita 
did not speak at all, and seemed to have forgotten us. 

We had more music that evening, and Bell produced her gui- 
tar, which was expected to solace us much on our journey. It 
was found that the lieutenant could play that too in a rough 
fashion ; and he executed at least a very pretty accompaniment 
when Bell sung “ Der Tyroler und sein Kind.” But you should 
have seen the face of Master Arthur when Bell volunteered to 
sing a German song. I believe she did it to show that she was 
not altogether frightened by the gloomy and mysterious silence 
which he preserved, as he sat in a corner and stared at everybody. 

So ended our first day : and to-morrow — why, to-morrow we 


38 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


pass away from big cities and their suburbs, from multitudes of 
friends, late hours, and the whirl of amusements and follies, into 
the still seclusion of English country life, with its simple habits, 
and fresh pictures, and the quaint humors of its inns. 

[Note by Queen Titania. — “ The foregoing pages give a more or less accu- 
rate account of our setting-out, but they are all wrong about Bell. Men are 
far worse than women in imagining love-affairs, and supposing that girls 
think about nothing else. Bell wishes to be let alone. If gentlemen care 
to make themselves uncomfortable about her, she cannot help it; but it is 
rather unfair to drag her into any such complications. I am positive that, 
though she has doubtless a little pity for that young man who vexes himself 
and his friends because he is not good enough for her, she would not be 
sorry to see him, and Count Von Bosen — and some one else besides — all start 
off on a cruise to Australia. She is quite content to be as she is. Marriage 
will come in good time ; and when it comes, she will get plenty of it, sure 
enough. In the mean time, I hope she will not be suspected of encouraging 
those idle flirtations and pretenses of worship with which gentlemen think 
they ought to approach every girl whose good fortune it is not to be mar- 
ried. — T.”] 


CHAPTER IV. 

ARTHUR VANISHES. 

“ Hampton me taught to wish her first for mine ; 

And Windsor, alas ! doth chase me from her sight.” 

“ Rain !” cried Queen Titania, as she walked up to the window 
of the breakfast - room, and stared reproachfully out on cloudy 
skies, gloomy trees, and the wet thoroughfares of Twickenham. 

“ Surely not !” said Bell, in anxious tones ; and therewith she 
too walked up to one of the panes, while an expression of deep 
mortification settled down on her face. 

She stood so for a second or two, irresolute and hurt, and then 
a revengeful look came into her eyes ; she walked firmly over to 
my lady, got close up to her ear, and apparently uttered a single 
word. Tita almost jumped back; and then she looked at the 
girl. 

“ Bell, how dare you ?” she said, in her severest manner. 

Bell turned and shyly glanced at the rest of us, probably to 
make sure none of us had heard ; and then, all this mysterious 
transaction being brought to a close, she returned to the table 
and calmly took up a newspaper. But presently she threw it 


ARTHUR VANISHES. 


39 


aside, and glanced, with some heightened color in her face and 
some half-frightened amusement in her eyes, towards Tita ; and 
lo ! that majestic little woman was still regarding the girl, and 
there was surprise as well as sternness in her look. 

Presently the brisk step of Lieutenant Von Rosen was heard 
outside, and in a minute or two the tall young man came into 
the room, with a fine color in his face, and a sprinkling of rain 
about his big brown beard. 

“Ha! Not late? No? That is very good.” 

“ But it rains I” said Tita to him, in an injured way, as if any 
one who had been out-of-doors was necessarily responsible for the 
weather. 

“ Not much,” he said. “ It may go off ; but about six it did 
rain very hard, and I got a little wet then, I think.” 

“ And where were you at six ?” said Tita, with her pretty 
brown eyes opened wide. 

“ At Isleworth,” he said, carelessly ; and then he added : “ Oh, 
I have done much business this morning, and bought something 
for your two boys, which will make them not mind that you go 
away. It is hard, you know, they are left behind — ” 

“ But Bell has given them silver watches,” said mamma. “ Is 
not that enough ?” 

“ They will break them in a day. Now, when I went to the 
stables this morning to feed the horses, the old hostler was there. 
We had a quarrel last night; but no matter. We became very 
good friends — he told me much about Buckinghamshire and 
himself ; he told me he did know your two boys ; he told me 
he knew of a pony — oh! a very nice little pony — that was for 
sale from a gentleman in Isleworth — ” 

“ And you’ve bought them a pony !” cried Bell, clapping her 
hands. 

“Bell,” said Tita, with a severe look, “how foolish you are! 
How could you think of anything so absurd ?” 

“But she is quite right, madame,”said the lieutenant, “and 
it will be here in an hour, and you must not tell them till it 
comes.” 

“ And you mean to leave them with that animal ! Why, they 
will break their necks, both of them,” cried my lady. 

“Oh no!” said the lieutenant; “a tumble does not hurt boys, 
not at all. And this is a very quiet, small pony — oh, I did pull 


40 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


him about to try, and he will not harm anybody. And very 
rough and strong — I think the old man did call him a Scotland 
pony.” 

“A Shetland pony.” 

“ Ah, very well,” said our Uhlan ; and then he began to turn 
wistful eyes to the breakfast-table. 

They sat down to breakfast, almost forgetting the rain. They 
were very well pleased with the coming of the pony. It would 
be a capital thing for the boys’ health ; it would be this and 
would be that ; but only one person there reflected that this ad- 
dition to the comforts of the young rogues up-stairs would cer- 
tainly cost him sixteen shillings a week all the year round. 

Suddenly, in the midst of this talk. Bell looked up and said, 

“ But where is Arthur ?” 

“Oh,” said the mother of the young man, “he went up to 
town this morning at eight. He took it for granted you would 
not start to-day.” 

“ He might have waited to see,” said Bell, looking down. “ I 
suppose he is not so very much occupied in the Temple. What 
if we have to go away before he comes back ?” 

“But perhaps he won’t come back,” said Mrs. Ashburton, 
gently. 

Bell looked surprised ; and then, with a little firmness about 
the mouth, held her peace for some time. It was clear that Mas- 
ter Arthur’s absence had some considerable significance in it, 
which she was slowly determining in her own mind. 

When Bell next spoke, she proposed that we should set out, 
rain or no rain. 

“ It will not take much time to drive down to Henley,” she 
said. “And if we begin by paying too much attention to slight 
showers, we shall never get on. Besides, Count Von Rosen ought 
to see how fine are our English rain landscapes — what softened 
colors are brought out in the trees and in the grays of the dis- 
tance under a dark sky. It is not nearly so dismal as a wet day 
abroad in a level country, with nothing but rows of poplars along 
the horizon. Here,” she said, turning to the lieutenant, who had 
probably heard of her recent successes in water-color, “ you have 
light mists hanging about the woods j and there is a rough sur- 
face on the rivers ; and all the hedges and fields get dark and in- 
tense, and a bit of scarlet — say a woman’s cloak — is very fine 


ARTHUR VANISHES. 


41 


under the gloom of the sky. I know you are not afraid of wet, 
and I know that the rest of us never got into such good spirits 
during our Surrey drives as when we were dashing through tor- 
rents and shaking the rain from about our faces ; and this is 
nothing — a mere passing shower — and the country down by 
Hounslow will look very well under dark clouds ; and we cannot 
do better than start at once for Henley !” 

“ What is the matter, Bell ?” said Tita, looking at the girl with 
her clear, observant eyes. “ One would think you were vexed 
about our staying in Twickenham until to-morrow, and yet no- 
body has proposed that yet.” 

“ I don’t wish to waste time,” said Bell, looking down. 

Here the lieutenant laughed aloud. 

“ Forgive me, mademoiselle,” he said, “ but what you say is 
very much like the English people. They are always much afraid 
of losing time, though it does not matter to them. I think your 
commercial habits have become national, and got among people 
who have nothing to do with commerce. I find English ladies 
who have weeks and months at their disposal travel all night by 
train, and make themselves very wretched. Why? To save a 
day, they tell you. I find English people, with two months holi- 
day before them, undertake all the uncomforts of a night passage 
from Dover to Calais. Why? To save a day. How does it 
matter to you, for example, that we start to-day, or to-morrow, 
or next week ? Only that you feel you must be doing something 
— you must accomplish something — you must save time. It is 
all English. It is with your amusements as with your making of 
money. You are never satisfied. You are always looking for- 
ward — wishing to do or have certain things — never content to 
stop, and rest, and enjoy doing nothing.” 

Now what do you think our Bell did on being lectured in this 
fashion ? Say something in reply, only kept from being saucy by 
the sweet manner of her saying it ? Or rise and leave the room, 
and refuse to be coaxed into a good humor for hours? Why, no. 
She said in the gentlest way, 

“I think you are right. Count Yon Rosen. It really does not 
matter to me whether we go to-day or to-morrow.” 

“ But you shall go to-day. Bell,” say I, “ even though it should 
rain Duke Georges. At four of the clock we start.” 

“My dear,” says Tita, “this is absurd.” 


42 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

“ Probably ; but none the less Castor and Pollux shall start at 
that hour.” 

“ You are beginning to show your authority somewhat early,” 
says my lady, with a suspicious sweetness in her tone. 

“ What there is left of it,” I remark, looking at Bell, who de- 
scries a fight in the distance, and is all attention. 

“ Count Von Rosen,” says Tita, turning in her calmest manner 
to the young man, “ what do you think of this piece of folly ? It 
may clear up long before that : it may be raining heavily then. 
Why should we run the risk of incurring serious illness by deter- 
mining to start at a particular hour? It is monstrous. It is ab- 
surd. It is — it is — ” 

“ Well,” said the lieutenant, with an easy shrug and a laugh, 
“ it is not of much consequence you make the rule ; for you will 
break it if it is not agreeable. For myself, I have been accus- 
tomed to start at a particular hour, whatever happens *, but for 
pleasure, what is the use ?” 

“ Yes, what is the use ?” repeats Titania, turning to the rest of 
us with a certain ill-concealed air of triumph. 

“ St. Augustine,” I observed to this rebellious person, “ remarks 
that the obedience of a wife to her husband is no virtue, so long 
as she does only that which is reasonable, just, and pleasing to 
herself.” 

“ I don’t believe St. Augustine said anything of the kind,” re- 
plied she ; “ and if he did, he hadn’t a wife, and didn’t know what 
he was talking about. I will not allow Bell to catch her death of 
cold. We shall not start at four.” 

“ Two o’clock, luncheon. Half-past two the moon enters Cap- 
ricorn. Three o’clock, madness rages. Four, colds attack the 
human race. We start at four.” 

By this time breakfast was over, and all the reply that Tita 
vouchsafed was to wear a pleased smile of defiance as she left the 
room. The count, too, went out ; and in a few minutes we saw 
him in the road, leading the pony he had bought. The boys had 
been kept up-stairs, and were told nothing of the surprise in store 
for them ; so that we were promised a stirring scene in front of 
the doctor’s house. 

Presently the lieutenant arrived at the gate, and summoned Bell 
from the window. She having gone to the door, and spoken to 
him for a second or two, went into the house, and reappeared 


ARTHUR VANISHES. 


43 


with a bundle of coarse cloths. Was the foolish young man 
going to groom the pony in front of the house, merely out of 
bravado ? At all events, he roughly dried the shaggy coat of the 
sturdy little animal, and then carefully wiped the mud from its 
small legs and hoofs. Bell went down and took the bridle ; the 
lieutenant was behind, to give a push if necessary. 

“ Come up, Dick !” she said ; and after a few frightened stum- 
bles on the steps the pony stood in the doctor’s hall. 

The clatter of the small hoofs on the wax-cloth had brought 
the boys out to the first landing, and they were looking down with 
intense surprise on the appearance of a live horse in the house. 
When Bell had called them, and told them that the count had 
bought this pony for them, that it was a real pony, and that they 
would have to feed it every day, they came down the stairs with 
quite a frightened air. They regarded the animal from a distance, 
and then at last Master Jack ventured to go up and touch its neck. 

“ Why,” he said, as if suddenly struck with the notion that it 
was really alive, “ I’ll get it an apple !” 

He went up-stairs, three steps at a bound ; and by the time he 
came back Master Tom had got in the saddle, and was for riding 
his steed into the breakfast-room. Then he would ride him out 
into the garden. Jack insisted on his having the apple first. The 
mother of both called out from above that if they went into the 
garden in the rain she would have the whole house whipped. But 
all the same. Master Tom, led by the lieutenant and followed by 
Bell — whose attentions in holding him on he regarded with great 
dislike — rode in state along the passage, and through the kitchen, 
and out by a back-door into the garden. 

“ Let me go. Auntie Bell !” he said, shaking himself free. “ I 
can ride very well — I have ridden often at Leatherhead.” 

“Off you go, then,” said the lieutenant: “lean well back — 
don’t kick him with your heels — off you go.” 

The pony shook his rough little mane, and started upon a very 
sedate and patient walk along the smooth path. 

“ Fist ! hei ! Go ahead !” cried Master Tom, and he twitched 
at the bridle in quite a knowing way. 

Thus admonished, the pony broke into a brisk trot, which at 
first jogged Master Tom on to its neck, but he managed to wrig- 
gle back into the saddle and get hold of the reins again. His 
riding was not a masterly performance, but at all events he stuck 


44 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

on ; and when, after having trotted thrice round the garden, he 
slid off of his own will and brought the pony up to us, his chub- 
by round face was gleaming with pride, and flushed color, and 
rain. Then it was Jack’s turn; but this young gentleman, hav- 
ing had less experience, was attended by the lieutenant, who walk- 
ed round the garden with him, and gave him his first lessons in 
the art of horsemanship. This was a very pretty amusement for 
those of us who remained under the archway ; but for those in 
the garden it was beginning to prove a trifle damp. Neverthe- 
less, Bell begged hard for the boys to be let alone, seeing that 
they were overjoyed beyond expression by their new toy ; and it 
is probable that both they and their instructor would have got 
soaked to the skin had not my Lady Titania appeared, with her 
face full of an awful wrath. 

What occurred then it is difficult to relate ; for in the midst of 
the storm Bell laughed; and the boys, being deprived of their 
senses by the gift of the pony, laughed also — at their own mother. 
Tita fell from her high estate directly. The splendors of her an- 
ger faded away from her face, and she ran out into the rain and 
cuffed the boys’ ears, and kissed them, and drove them into the 
house before her. And she was so good as to thank the count 
formally for his present ; and with a kindly smile bade the boys 
be good boys and attend to their lessons when they had so much 
amusement provided for them ; and finally turned to Bell, and 
said, that as we had to start at four o’clock, we might as well have 
our things packed before luncheon. 

Now such was the reward of this wifely obedience that at four 
o’clock the rain had actually and definitely ceased ; and the clouds, 
though they still hung low, were gathering themselves up into dis- 
tinct forms. When the phaeton was brought round, there was 
not even any necessity for putting up the hood ; and Tita, having 
seen that everything was placed in the vehicle, was graciously 
pleased to ask the lieutenant if he would drive, that she might sit 
beside him and point out objects of interest. 

Then she kissed the boys very affectionately, and bade them 
take care not to tumble off the pony. The doctor and his wife 
wished us every good fortune. Bell threw a wistful glance up 
and down the road, and then turned her face a little aside. The 
count shook the reins, and our phaeton rolled slowly away from 
Twickenham. 


ARTHUR VANISHES. 


45 


“ Why, Bell,” I said, as we were crossing the railway bridge, 
and my companion looked round to see if there were a train at 
the station, “ you have been crying.” 

“ Not much,” said Bell, frankly, but in a very low voice. 

“But why?” I ask. 

“You know,” she said. 

“ I know that Arthur has been very unreasonable, and that he 
has gone up to London in a fit of temper; and I know what I 
think of the whole transaction, and what I consider he deserves. 
But I didn’t think you cared for him so much. Bell, or were so 
vexed about it.” 

“ Care for him ?” she said, with a glance at the people before 
us, lest the low sound of her voice might not be entirely drowned 
by the noise of the wheels in the muddy road. “ That may mean 
much or little. You know I like Arthur very well; and — and I 
am afraid he is vexed with me ; and it is not pleasant to part like 
that with one’s friends.” 

“ He will write to you. Bell ; or he will drop down on us sud- 
denly some evening when we are at Oxford, or Worcester, or 
Shrewsbury — ” 

“ I hope he will not do that,” said Bell, with some expression 
of alarm. “ If he does, I know something dreadful will happen.” 

“ But Master Arthur, Bell, is not exactly the sort of person to 
displace the geological strata.” 

“Oh, you don’t know what a temper he has at times,” she 
said ; and then, suddenly recovering herself, she added, hastily, 
“ but he is exceedingly good and kind, for all that : only he is 
vexed, you know, at not being able to get on ; and perhaps he is 
a little jealous of people who are successful, and in good circum- 
stances, and independent; and he is apt to think that — that — 
that—” 

“ His lady-love will be carried off by some wealthy suitor be- 
fore he has been able to amass a fortune ?” 

“You mustn’t talk as if I were engaged to Arthur Ashburton,” 
said Bell, rather proudly, “ or even that I am ever likely to be.” 

Oar Bonny Bell soon recovered her spirits, for she felt that we 
had at last really set out on our journey to Scotland, and her keen 
liking for all out-of-door sights and sounds was now heightened 
by a vague and glad anticipation. If Arthur Ashburton, as I 
deemed highly probable, should endeavor to overtake us, and ef- 


46 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


feet a reconciliation or final understanding with Bell, we were, for 
the present at least, speeding rapidly away from him. 

As we drove through the narrow lane running down by Whit- 
ton Park and Whitton Dean, the warm, moist winds were blow- 
ing a dozen odors about from the far, low-stretching fields and 
gardens ; and the prevailing sweetness of the air seemed to herald 
our departure from the last suburban traces of London. Splash ! 
went the horses’ hoofs into the yellow pools of the roads, and the 
rattle of the wheels seemed to send an echo through the stillness 
of the quiet country-side; while overhead the dark and level 
clouds became more fixed and gray, and we hoped they would 
ultimately draw together and break, so as to give us a glimpse of 
pallid sunshine. Then we drove up through Hounslow to the 
famous inn at the cross-roads which was known to travellers in 
the highway-robbery days ; and here our Bell complained that so 
many of these hostleries should bear her name. Tita, we could 
hear, was telling her companion of all the strange incidents con- 
nected with this inn and its neighborhood which she could recall 
from the pages of those various old-fashioned fictions which are 
much more interesting to some folks than the most accurate his- 
tories. So we bowled along the Bath road, over Cranford Bridge, 
past the Magpies, through Colebrook, and on to Langley Marsh, 
when the count suddenly exclaimed, 

“But the Heath? I have not seen Hounslow Heath, where 
the highwaymen used to be !” 

Alas ! there was no more Heath to show him — only the level 
and wooded beauties of a cultivated English plain. And yet 
these, as we saw them then, under the conditions that Bell had 
described in the morning, were sufficiently pleasant to see. All 
around us stretched a fertile landscape, with the various greens of 
its trees and fields and hedges grown dark and strong under the 
gloom of the sky. The winding road ran through this country 
like the delicate gray streak of a river; and there were distant 
farm-houses peeping from the sombre foliage ; an occasional way- 
side inn standing deserted amidst its rude out-houses; a passing 
tramp plodding through the mire. Strange and sweet came the 
damp, warm winds from over the fields of beans and of clover, 
and it seemed as if the wild-roses in the tall and straggling hedges 
had increased in multitude so as to perfume the whole land. 
And then, as we began to see in the west, with a great joy, some 


ARTHUR VANISHES. 


47 


faint streaks of sunsliine descend like a shimmering comb upon 
the gloomy landscape, lo ! in the south there arose before us a 
great and stately building, whose tall gray towers and spacious 
walls, seen against the dark clouds of the horizon, were distant, 
and pale, and spectral. 

“ It looks like a phantom castle, does it not ?” said Bell, speak- 
ing in quite a low voice. “ Don’t you think it has sprung up in 
the heavens like the Fata Morgana, or the spectral ship, and that 
it will fade away again and disappear?” 

Indeed, it looked like the ghost of one of the castles of King Ar- 
thur’s time — that old, strange time, when England lay steeped in 
gray mists and the fogs blown about by the sea-winds, when there 
does not seem to have been any sunshine, but only a gloom of 
shifting vapors, half hiding the ghostly knights and the shadowy 
queens, and all their faint and mystical stories and pilgrimages 
and visions. The castle down there looked as if it had never 
been touched by sharp, clear, modern sunlight, that is cruel to 
ghosts and phantoms. 

But here Bell’s reveries were interrupted by Lieutenant Von 
Rosen, who, catching sight of the castle in the south and all its 
hazy lines of forest, said, 

“ Ah, what is that ?” 

“ That,” said Bell, suddenly recovering from her trance, “ is » 
hotel for German princes.” 

She had no sooner uttered the words, however, than she looked 
thoroughly alarmed ; and with a prodigious shame and mortifica- 
tion she begged the count’s pardon, who merely laughed, and said 
he regretted he was not a prince. 

“ It is Windsor, is it not ?” he said. 

“Yes,” replied Bell, humbly, while her face was still pained 
and glowing. “ I — I hope you will forgive my rudeness ; I think 
I must have heard some one say that recently, and it escaped me 
before I thought what it meant.” 

Of course, the lieutenant passed the matter oiOE lightly, as a very 
harmless saying; but, all the same. Bell seemed determined for 
some time after to make him amends, and quite took away my 
lady’s occupation by pointing out to our young Uhlan, in a very 
respectful and submissive manner, whatever she thought of note 
on the road. Whether the lieutenant perceived this intention or 
not, I do not know ; but at all events he took enormous pains to 


48 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


be interested in what she said, and paid far more attention to her 
than to his own companion. Moreover, he once or twice, in look- 
ing back, pretty nearly ran us into a cart, insomuch that Queen 
Tita had laughingly to recall him to his duties. 

In this wise we went down through the sweetly smelling coun- 
try, with its lines of wood and hedge and its breadths of field and 
meadow still suffering from the gloom of a darkened sky. We 
cut through the village of Slough, passed the famous Salthill, got 
over the Two Mill Brook at Cuckfield Bridge, and were rapidly 
nearing Maidenhead, where we proposed to rest an hour or two 
and dine. Bell had pledged her word there would be a bright 
evening, and had thrown out vague hints about a boating excur- 
sion up to the wooded heights of Cliefden. In the mean time 
the sun had made little way in breaking through the clouds. 
There were faint indications here and there of a luminous gray- 
ish yellow lying in the interstices of the heavy sky ; but the pale 
and shimmering comb in the west had disappeared. 

“ What has come over your fine weather. Bell ?” said my lady. 
“ Do you remember how you used to dream of our setting out, and 
what heaps of color and sunshine you lavished on your picture 

“ My dear,” said Bell, “ you are unacquainted with the art of a 
stage-manager. Do you think I would begin my pantomime with 
a blaze of light, and bright music, and a great show of costume ? 
No ! First of all comes the dungeon scene — darkness and gloom 
— thunder and solemn music — nothing but demons appearing 
through the smoke ; and then, when you have all got impressed 
and terrified and attentive, you will hear in the distance a little 
sound of melody, there will be a flutter of wings, just as if the 
fairies were preparing a surprise, and then all at once into the 
darkness leaps the queen herself, and a blaze of sunlight dashes 
on to her silver wings, and you see her gauzy costume, and the 
scarlet and gold of a thousand attendants who have all swarmed 
into the light.” 

“ How long have we to wait, mademoiselle ?” said the lieuten- 
ant, seriously. 

“ I have not quite settled that,” replied Bell, with a fine air of 
reflection, “ but I will see about it while you are having dinner.” 

Comforted by these promises — which ought, however, to have 
come from Queen Titania, if the fairies were supposed to be in- 
voked — we drove underneath the railway-line and past the station 


ARTHUR VANISHES. 


49 


of Taplow, and so forward to the hotel by the bridge. When, 
having with some exercise of patience seen Castor and Pollux 
housed and fed, I went into the parlor, I found dinner on the 
point of being served, and the count grown almost eloquent about 
the comforts of English inns. Indeed, there was a considerable 
difference, as he pointed out, between the hard, bright, cheery pub- 
lic room of a German inn, and this long, low-roofed apartment, 
with its old-fashioned furniture, its carpets, and general air of 
gravity and respectability. Then the series of pictures around 
the walls — venerable lithographs, glazed and yellow, representing 
all manner of wild adventures in driving and hunting — amused 
him much. 

“That is very like your English humor,” he said — “of the 
country, I mean. The joke is a man thrown into a ditch, and 
many horses coming over on him ; or it is a carriage upset in the 
road, and men crawling from underneath, and women trying to 
get through the window. It is rough, strong, practical fun, at 
the expense of unfortunate people, that you like.” 

“ At least,” I point out, “ it is quite as good a sort of public- 
house furniture as pictures of bleeding saints, or lithographs of 
smooth-headed princes.” 

“ Oh, I do not object to it,” he said, “ not in the least. I do 
like your sporting pictures very much.” 

“And when you talk of German lithographs,” struck in Bell, 
quite warmly, “ I suppose you know that it is to the German 
print-sellers our poorer classes owe all the possession of art they 
can afford. They would never have a picture in their house but 
for those cheap lithographs that come over from Germany ; and, 
although they are very bad, and even carelessly bad often, they 
are surely better than nothing for cottages and country inns that 
would never otherwise have anything to show but coarse patterns 
of wall-paper.” 

“ My dear child,” remarked Queen Tita, “ we are none of us ac- 
cusing Germany of any crime whatever.” 

“ But it is very good - natured of mademoiselle to defend my 
country, for all that,” said the lieutenant, with a smile. “ We 
are unpopular with you just now, I believe. That I cannot help. 
It is a pity. But it is only a family quarrel, you know, and it 
will go away. And just now, it requires some courage to say a 
word for Germany, yes ?” 

4 


50 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Why, Bell has been your bitterest enemy all through the 
war,” said Tita, ashamed of the defection of her ancient ally. 

“ I think you behaved very badly to the poor French people,” 
said Bell, looking down, and evidently wishing that some good 
spirit or bad one would fly away with this embarrassing topic. 

The spirit appeared. There came to the open space in front 
of the inn a young girl of about fifteen or sixteen, with a care- 
worn and yet healthily colored face, and shrewd blue eyes. She 
wore a man’s jacket, and she had a shillalah in her hand, which 
she twirled about as she glanced at the windows of the inn. Then, 
in a hard, cracked voice, she began to sing a song. It was sup- 
posed to be rather a dashing and aristocratic ballad, in which this 
oddly clad girl with the shillalah recounted her experiences of 
the opera, and told us how she loved champagne, and croquet, 
and various other fashionable diversions. There was something 
very curious in the forced gayety with which she entered into 
these particulars, the shillalah meanwhile being kept as still as 
circumstances would permit. But presently she sung an Irish 
song, describing herself as some free-and-easy Irish lover and 
fighter ; and here the bit of wood came into play. She thrust 
one of her hands, with an audacious air, into the pocket of the 
jacket she wore, while she twirled the shillalah with the other ; 
and then, so soon as she had finished, her face dropped into a 
plaintive and matter-of-fact air, and she came forward to receive 
pence. 

“ She is scarcely our Lorelei,” said the count, “ who sits over the 
Rhine in the evening. But she is a hard-working girl, you can 
see that. She has not much pleasure in life. If we give her a 
shilling, it will be much comfort to her.” 

And with that he went out. But what was Tita’s surprise to 
see him go up to the girl and begin to talk to her ! She, looking 
up to the big, brown-bearded man with a sort of awe, answered 
his questions with some appearance of shamefaced embarrass- 
ment : and then, when he gave her a piece of money, she per- 
formed something like a courtesy, and looked after him as he re- 
turned whistling to the door of the inn. 

Then we had dinner — a plain, comfortable, wholesome meal 
enough ; and it seemed somehow in this old-fashioned parlor that 
we formed quite a family party. We were cut off at last from 
the world of friends and acquaintances, and thrown upon each 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


61 


other’s society in a very peculiar fashion. In what manner should 
we sit down to our final repast, after all this journey and its per- 
ils and accidents were over ? Tita, I could see, was rather grave, 
and perhaps speculating on the future ; while Bell and the young 
lieutenant had got to talk of some people they recollected as liv- 
ing at Bonn some dozen years before. Nobody said a word about 
Arthur. 


CHAPTER V. 

QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 

“ Say, Father Thames, for thou hast seen 
Full many a sprightly race, 

Disporting on thy margent green, 

The paths of pleasure trace. 

Who foremost now delight to cleave 
With pliant arm thy glassy wave?” 

At length we hit upon one thing that Count Von Rosen could 
not do. When we had wandered down to the side of the Thames, 
just by Maidenhead Bridge, and opposite the fine old houses, and 
smooth lawns, and green banks that stand on the other margin of 
the broad and shallow river, we discovered that the lieutenant was 
of no use in a boat. And so, as the young folks would have us 
go up under the shadows of the leafy hills of Cliefden, there was 
nothing for it but that Tita and I should resort to the habits of 
earlier years and show a later generation how to feather an oar 
with skill and dexterity. As Queen Titania stood by the boat- 
house, pulling off her gloves with economic forethought, and look- 
ing rather pensively at the landing-place and the boats and the 
water, she suddenly said, 

“ Is not this like long ago ?” 

“You talk like an old woman, Tita,” says one of the party. 
“ And yet your eyes are as pretty as they were a dozen years ago, 
when you used to walk along the beach at Eastbourne, and cry 
because you were afraid of becoming the mistress of a house. 
And now the house has been too much for you; and you are 
full of confused facts, and unintelligible figures, and petty anxie- 
ties, until your responsibilities have hidden away the old tender- 
ness of your look, except at such a moment as this, when you 


52 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


forget yourself. Tita, do you remember who pricked her finger 
to sign a document when she was only a school-girl, and who 
produced it years afterward with something of a shamefaced 
pride ?” 

“ Stuff !” says Tita, angrily, but blushing dreadfully all the 
same; and so, with a frown and an imperious manner, she 
stepped down to the margin of the river. 

Now mark this circumstance. In the old days of which my 
lady was then thinking, she used to be very well content with 
pulling bow-oar when we two used to go out in the evenings. 
Now, when the lieutenant and Bell had been comfortably placed 
in the stern, Tita daintily stepped into the boat and sat down 
quite naturally to pull stroke. She made no apology. She took 
the place as if it were hers by right. Such are the changes 
which a few years of married life produce. 

So Bell pulled the white tiller-ropes over her shoulder, and we 
glided out and up the glassy stream, into that world of greenness 
and soft sounds and sweet odors that lay all around. Already 
something of Bell’s prophecy was likely to come true ; for the 
clouds were perceptibly growing thinner overhead, and a diffused 
yellow light falling from no particular place seemed to dwell 
over the hanging woods of Cliefden. It gave a new look, too, to 
the smooth river, to the rounded elms and tall poplars on the 
banks, and the long aits beyond the bridge, where the swans were 
sailing close in by the reeds. 

“ Look out !” cried the lieutenant, suddenly ; and at the same 
moment our coxswain, without a word of warning, shot us into a 
half-submerged forest that seemed to hide from us a lake on the 
other side. Tita had so little time to ship her oar that no pro- 
test was possible; and then Von Rosen, catching hold of the 
branches, pulled us through the narrow channel, and lo ! we were 
in a still piece of water, with a smooth curve of the river-bank 
on one side and a long island on the other, and with a pretty lit- 
tle house looking quietly down at us over this inland sea. We 
were still in the Thames ; but this house seemed so entirely to 
have become owner of the charming landscape around and its 
stretch of water in front, that Bell asked in a hurry how we 
could get away. Tita, being still a little indignant, answered not, 
but put her oar into the outrigger again, and commenced pulling. 
And then our coxswain, who was not so familiar with the tricks 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


53 


of tbe Thames at Maidenhead as some of us, discovered a north- 
west passage by which it was possible to return into the main 
channel of the stream, and we continued our voyage. 

When, at length, we had got by the picturesque old mill, and 
reached the sea of tumbling white water that came rushing down 
from the weir, it seemed as though the sky had entered into a 
compact with Bell to fulfil her predictions. For as we lay and 
rocked in the surge — watching the long level line of foam come 
tumbling over in spouts and jets and white masses, listening to 
the roar of the fall, and regarding the swirling circles of white 
bells that swept away downward on the stream — there appeared 
in the west, just over the line of the weir, a parallel line of dark 
blood-red. It was but a streak as yet ; but presently it widened 
and grew more intense — a great glow of crimson color came 
shining forth — and it seemed as if all the western heavens, just 
over that line of white foam, were becoming a mass of fire. 
Bell’s transformation-scene was positively blinding; and the be- 
wilderment of the splendid colors was not lessened by the roar of 
the tumbling river, that seemed strangely wild in the stillness of 
the evening. 

But when we turned to drop quietly down the stream, the 
scene around us was so lovely that Queen Titania had no heart 
to pull away from it. For now the hanging woods of beech and 
birch and oak had caught a glow of the sunset along their masses 
of yellow and green, and the broad stream had the purple of its 
glassy sweeps dashed here and there with red; and in the far 
east a reflected tinge of pink mingled with the cold green, and 
lay soft and pure and clear over the low woods and the river and 
the bridge. As if by magic, the world had grown suddenly light, 
ethereal, and full of beautiful colors ; and the clouds that still re- 
mained overhead had parted into long cirrous lines, with pearly 
edges, and a touch of scarlet and gold along their western side. 

“ ^V^at a drive we shall have this evening !” cried Bell. “ It 
will be a clear night when we get to Henley, and there will be 
stars over the river, and perhaps a moon — who knows ?” 

“ I thought you would have provided a moon, mademoiselle,” 
said the lieutenant, gravely. “ You have done very well for us 
this evening — oh ! very well indeed. I have not seen any such 
beautiful picture for many years. You did very well to keep a 
dark day all day, and make us tired of cold colors and green 


54 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


trees ; and then you surprise us by this picture of magic~oh ! it 
is very well done.” 

“ All that it wants,” said Bell, with a critical eye, “ is a little 
woman in a scarlet shawl under the trees there, and over the 
green of the rushes — one of those nice fat little women who al- 
ways wear bright shawls just to please landscape-painters — mak- 
ing a little blob of strong color, you know, just like a lady-bird 
among green moss. Do you know, I am quite grateful to a 
pleasant little countrywoman when she dresses herself ridiculous- 
ly merely to make a landscape look fine ; and how can you laugh 
at her when she comes near ? I sometimes think that she wears 
those colors, especially those in her bonnet, out of mere modesty. 
She does not know what will please you — she puts in a little of 
everything to give you a choice. She holds up to you a whole 
bouquet of fiowers, and says, ‘ Please, miss, do you like blue ? for 
here is corn-cockle; or red? for here are poppies; or yellow? 
for here are rock-roses.’ She is like Perdita, you know, going 
about with an armful of blossoms, and giving to every one what 
she thinks will please them.” 

“My dear,” says Tita, “you are too generous. I am afraid 
that the woman wears those things out of vanity. She does not 
know what color suits her complexion best, and so wears a va- 
riety, quite sure that one of them must be the right one. And 
there are plenty of women in town, as well as in the country, 
who do that too.” 

“ I hope you don’t mean me,” said Bell, contritely, as she 
leaned her arm over the side of the boat and dipped the tips of 
her fingers into the glassy stream. 

But if we were to get to Henley that night, there was no time 
for lingering longer about that bend by the river, with its islands 
and mills and woods. That great burst of color in the west had 
been the expiring effort of the sun ; and when we got back to 
the inn, there was nothing left in the sky but the last golden and 
crimson traces of his going down. The river was becoming 
gray, and the Cliefden woods were preparing for the night by 
drawing over themselves a thin veil of mist, which rendered them 
distant and shadowy, as they lay under the lambent sky. 

The phaeton was at the door; our bill paid; an extra shawl 
got out of the imperial — although, in that operation, the lieuten- 
ant nearly succeeded in smashing Bell’s guitar. 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


55 


“ It will be dark before we get to Henley,” says Tita. 

“ Yes,” I answer, obediently. 

“And we are going now by cross-roads,” she remarks. 

“The road is a very good one,” I venture to reply. 

“ But still it is a cross-road,” she says. 

“Very well, then, my dear,” I say, wondering what the little 
woman is after. 

“ You must drive,” she continues, “for none of us know the road.” 

“ Yes, m’m, please, m’m : any more orders ?” 

“ Oh, Bell,” says my lady, with a gracious air (she can change 
the expression of her face in a second), “ would you mind taking 
Count Von Rosen under your charge until we get to Henley? 
I am afraid it will take both of us to find the road in the dark.” 

“ No, I will take you under my charge, mademoiselle,” said the 
lieutenant, frankly ; and therewith he helped Bell into the phae- 
ton, and followed himself. 

The consequence of this little arrangement was, that while Tita 
and I were in front, the young folks were behind ; and no sooner 
had we started from the inn, got across the bridge, and were go- 
ing down the road towards the village of Maidenhead proper, 
than Titania says, in a very low voice, 

“ Do you know, my dear, our pulling together in that boat quite 
brought back old times ; and — and — and I wanted to be sitting 
up here beside you for a while, just to recall the old, old drives 
we used to have, you know, about here, and Henley, and Reading. 
How long ago is it, do you think ?” 

That wife of mine is a wonderful creature. You would have 
thought she was as innocent as a lamb when she uttered these 
words, looking up with a world of sincerity and pathos in the 
big, clear, earnest brown eyes. And the courage of the small 
creature, too, who thought she could deceive her husband by this 
open, transparent, audacious piece of hypocrisy ! 

“ Madam,” I said, with some care that the young folks should 
not overhear, “ your tenderness overwhelms me.” 

“ What do you mean ?” she says, suddenly becoming as cold and 
as rigid as Lot’s wife after the accident happened. 

“ Perhaps,” I ventured to suggest, “ you would like to have the 
hood up, and so leave them quite alone ? Our presence must be 
very embarrassing.” 

“You are insulting Bell in saying such things,” she says, warm- 


66 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


ly ; “ or perhaps it is that you would rather have her for a com- 
panion than your own wife.” 

“ Well, to tell you the truth, I would.” 

“ She shall not sit by the lieutenant again.” 

“ I hope you don’t mean to strangle her. We should arrive in 
Edinburgh in a sort of unicorn fashion.” 

Tita relapsed into a dignified silence — that is always the way 
with her when she has been found out ; but she was probably 
satisfied by hearing the count and Bell chatting very briskly to- 
gether, thus testifying to the success of her petty stratagem. 

It was a pleasant drive, on that quiet evening, from Maidenhead 
across the lonely country that lies within the great curve of the 
Thames. Instead of turning off at the corner of Stubbing’s Heath, 
and so getting into the road that runs by Hurley Bottom, we held 
straight on towards Wargrave, so as to have the last part of the 
journey lead us up by the side of the river. So still it was ! The 
road led through undulating stretches of common and past the 
edges of silent woods, while the sky was becoming pale and beau- 
tiful overhead, and the heights on the northern horizon — between 
Cookham and Hurley — were growing more and more visionary 
in the dusk. Sometimes, but rarely, we met a solitary wanderer 
coming along through the twilight, and a gruff “good -night” 
greeted us; but for the most part there seemed no life in this 
lonely part of the country, where rabbits ran across the road in 
front of us, and the last rooks that fiew by in the dusk seemed 
hastening on to the neighborhood of some distant village. It was 
a mild, fresh evening, with the air still damp and odorous after 
the rain ; but overhead the sky still remained clear, and here and 
there, in the partings of the thin cloud, a pale star or planet had 
become faintly visible. 

At last we got down into the village of Wargrave, and then it 
was nearly dark. There were a few people, mostly women, stand- 
ing at the doors of the cottages ; and here and there a ray of yel- 
low light gleamed out from a small window. As we struck into 
the road that runs parallel with the Thames, there were men com- 
ing home from their work ; and their talk was heard at a great 
distance in the stillness of the night. 

“ How far are we from Henley ?” said Bell. 

“ Are you anxious to get there ?” replied Queen Titania, smiling 
quite benignly. 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


57 


“ No,” said Bell, “ this is so pleasant that I should like to go 
driving on until midnight, and we could see the moon coming 
through the trees.” 

“You have to consider the horses,” said the lieutenant, bluntly. 
“ If you do tire them too much on the first day, they will not go 
so long a journey. But yet we are some way off, I suppose ; 
and if mademoiselle will sing something for us, I will get out the 
guitar.” 

“ You’d better get down and light the lamps, rather,” I remark 
to those indolent young people; whereupon the count was in- 
stantly in the road, striking wax matches, and making use of cu- 
rious expressions that seemed chiefly to consist of ^’s and r’s. 

So, with the lamps flaring down the dark road, we rolled along 
the highway that here skirts the side of a series of heights look- 
ing down into the Thames. Sometimes we could see a gray glim- 
mer of the river beneath us through the trees ; at other times the 
road took us down close to the side of the water, and Castor got 
an opportunity of making a playful little shy or two ; hut for the 
most part we drove through dense woods that completely shut off 
the starlight overhead. 

More than once, indeed, we came to a steep descent that was 
buried in such total darkness that the lieutenant jumped down 
and took the horses’ heads, lest some unlucky step or stumble 
should throw us into the river. So far as we could make out, 
however, there was a suflScient wall on the side of the highway 
next the stream — a rough old wall, covered with plants and moss, 
that ran along the high and wooded bank. 

Suddenly Bell uttered a cry of delight. We had come to a 
cleft in the glade which showed us the river running by some 
sixty feet beneath us, and on the surface of the water the young 
crescent of the moon was clearly mirrored. There was not enough 
moonlight to pierce the trees, or even to drown the pale light of 
the stars ; but the sharp disk of silver, as it glimmered on the 
water, was sufficiently beautiful, and contained in itself the prom- 
ise of many a lovely night. 

“ It has begun the journey with us,” said Bell. “ It is a young 
moon ; it will go with us all the month ; and we shall see it on 
the Severn, and on Windermere, and on the Solway, and on the 
Tweed. Didn’t I promise you all a moon, sooner or later ? And 
there it is !” 


58 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ It does not do us much good, Bell,” said the driver, ruefully, 
the very horses seeming afraid to plunge into the gulfs of dark- 
ness that were spectrally peered into by the light of the lamps. 

“ The moon is not for use,” said Bell, “ it is for magic ; and 
once we have got to Henley, and put the horses up, and gone out 
again to the river, you shall all stand back and watch in a corner, 
and let Queen Titania go forward to summon the fairies. And 
as you listen in the dark, you will hear a little crackling and rus- 
tling along the opposite shore, and you will see small blue lights 
come out from the banks, and small boats, with a glowworm at 
their prow, come out into the stream. And then from the boats, 
and from all the fields near — where the mist of the river lies at 
night — you will see wonderful small men and women of radiant 
blue flame come forward, and there will be a strange sound like 
music in the trees, and the river itself will begin to say, in a kind 
of laugh, ‘ Titania, Titania ! you have been so long away — years 
and years — looking after servants, and the schooling of hoys, and 
the temper of a fractious husband — ’ ” 

“ Bell, you are impertinent.” 

“There are true words spoken in jest, sometimes,” says Tita, 
with a dainty malice. 

“Your bearing-rein in England is a cruelty to the horse — you 
must take it away to-morrow,” said the lieutenant ; and this con- 
tinuation of a practical subject recalled these scapegraces from 
their jibes. 

Here the road took us down by a gradual dip to the river 
again, and for the last mile before reaching our destination we 
had a pleasant and rapid run along the side of the stream. 
Then the lights of Henley were seen to glimmer before us; we 
crossed over the bridge, and swerving round to the right, drove 
into the archway of the Bell Inn. 

“No, sir,” remarked Dr. Johnson to Mr. Boswell, “there is 
nothing which has yet been contrived by man, by which so much 
happiness is produced as by a good tavern or inn.” He then re- 
peated with great emotion, we are told, Shenstone’s lines, 

“ Who’er has travelled life’s dull round. 

Where’er his stages may have been. 

May sigh to think he still has found 
The warmest welcome at an inn.” 

And Mr. Boswell goes on to say: “We happened to lie this 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


59 


night at the inn at Henley, where Shenstone wrote these lines.” 
Now, surely, if ever belated travellers had reason to expect a cor- 
dial welcome, it was we four as we drove into the famous hos- 
tlery which had awakened enthusiasm in the poets and lexicog- 
raphers of by-gone days. But as Castor and Pollux stood un- 
der the archway, looking into the great dark yard before them, 
and as we gazed round in vain for the appearance of any waiter 
or other official, it occurred to Tita that the Bell Inn must have 
changed hands since Shenstone’s time. Where was our comfort- 
able welcome ? A bewildered maid-servant came to stare at our 
phaeton with some alarm. Plaintive howls for the hostler pro- 
duced a lad from the darkness of the stables, who told us that 
the hostler was away somewhere. Another maid-servant came 
out, and also looked alarmed. The present writer, fearing that 
Tony Lumpkin, transformed into an invisible spirit, had played 
him a trick, humbly begged this young woman to say whether 
he had driven by mistake into a private house. The young per- 
son looked afraid. 

“My good girl,” says Tita, with a gracious condescension, 
“ will you tell us if this is the Bell Inn ?” 

“ Yes, ’m ; of course, ’m.” 

“ And can we stay here to-night ?” 

“ I’ll bring the waiter, ma’am, directly.” 

Meanwhile the lieutenant had got down, and was fuming about 
the yard to rout out the hostler’s assistants, or some people who 
could put up the horses. He managed to unearth no fewer than 
three men, whom he brought in a gang. He was evidently de- 
termined not to form his grooming of the horses at Twickenham 
into a precedent. 

At last there came a waiter, looking rather sleepy and a trifle 
helpless ; whereupon my lady and Bell departed into the inn, and 
left the luggage to be sent after them. There appeared to be 
no one inside the house. The gases were lighted in the spacious 
coffee-room ; some rugs and bags were brought in and placed on 
the table ; and then Tita and her companion, not daring to re- 
move their bonnets, sat down in arm-chairs and stared at each 
other. 

“ I fly from pomp, I fly from plate ; 

I fly from falsehood’s specious grin ; 

But risk a ten times worser fate 
Jn choosing lodgings at an inn 


60 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

— this was what Bell repeated, in a gentle voice, on the very spot 
that is sacred to the memory of Shenstone’s satisfaction. 

I requested the young man in the white tie to assign some 
reason for this state of affairs ; and his answer was immediately 
forthcoming. There had been a regatta a few days before. The 
excitement in the small town, and more especially in The Bell, 
had been dreadful. Now a reaction had set in ; Henley and The 
Bell were alike deserted; and we were the victims of a col- 
lapse. I complimented the waiter on his philosophical acumen, 
and went out to see what had befallen Count Von Rosen and the 
horses. 

I found him standing in a stable that was dimly lighted by a 
solitary candle stuck against the wall, superintending the some- 
what amateurish operations of the man who had undertaken to 
supply the hostler’s place. The lieutenant had evidently not 
been hectoring his companions ; on the contrary, he was on 
rather good terms with them, and was making inquiries about 
the familiar English names for chopped hay and other luxuries 
of the stable. He was examining the corn, too, and pronouncing 
opinion on the split beans which he had ordered. On the whole, 
he was satisfied with the place ; although he expressed his sur- 
prise that the hostler of so big an inn should be absent. 

When, at length, he had seen each of the horses supplied with 
an ample feed, fresh straw, and plenty of hay, the men were 
turned out and the stable-door locked. He allowed them on this 
occasion to keep the key. As we crossed the yard, a rotund, 
frank, cheery - looking man appeared, who was presumably the 
hostler. He made a remark or two ; but the night air was chill. 

“Now,” said Von Rosen, when we got into the big parlor, 
“we have to make ourselves pleasant and comfortable. I do 
think we must all drink whiskey. For myself, I do not like the 
taste very much; but it looks very comfortable to see some 
people with steaming glasses before them. And I have brought 
out mademoiselle’s guitar, and she will sing us some songs, yes ?” 

“ But you must also,” says Bell, looking down. 

“ Oh, a hundred ! a thousand ! as many as you like !” he said ; 
and then, with a sort of sigh, he took his cigar-case out of his 
pocket and laid it pathetically on the mantel-piece. There was 
an air of renunciation in his face. Forthwith he rung the bell ; 
and the waiter was asked to bring us certain liquors which, al- 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


61 


though not exclusively whiskey, could be drunk in those steaming 
tumblers which the lieutenant loved to see. 

“ Oh, come you from Newcastle 

— this was what Bell sung, with the blue ribbon of her guitar 
slung round her neck : 

“ Oh, come you from Newcastle ? 

Come you not there away ? 

And did you meet my true-love, 

Hiding on a bonny bay ?” 

And as she sung, with her eyes cast down, the lieutenant seemed 
to be regarding her face with a peculiar interest. He forgot to 
lift the hot tumbler that was opposite him on the table — he had 
even forgotten Tita’s gracious permission that he might have a 
cigar — he was listening and gazing merely, in a blank silence. 
And when she had finished, he eagerly begged her to sing an- 
other of the old English songs. And she sung, 

“ 0 mistress mine, where are you roaming ? 

0 mistress mine, where are you roaming ? 

O stay and hear, your true-love’s coming, 

That can sing both high and low.” 

And when she had finished, he once more eagerly begged her to 
sing another of those old songs ; and then, all of a sudden, catch- 
ing sight of a smile on my lady’s face, he stopped and apologized, 
and blushed rather, and said it was too bad — that he had forgot- 
ten, and would himself try something on the guitar. 

When, at length, the women had gone up -stairs, he fetched 
down his cigar from the mantel-piece, lighted it, stretched out his 
long legs, and said, 

“ How very English she is !” 

“She! who?” 

“ Why, your Miss Bell. I do like to hear her talk of England 
as if she had a pride in it, and mention the names of towns as if 
she loved them because they were English, and speak of the fairies 
and stories as if she was familiar with them because they belong 
to her own country. You can see how she is fond of everything 
that is like old times — -an old house, an old mile -stone, an old 
bridge — everything that is peculiar and old and English. And 
then she sings, oh, so very well — so very well indeed 1 and these 
old songs, about English places and English customs of village- 


62 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


life, they seem to suit her very well, and you think she herself is 
the heroine of them. But as for that young man in Twicken- 
ham, he is a very pitiful fellow.” 

“ How have you suddenly come to that conclusion ?” I in- 
quire of our lieutenant, who is lazily letting the cigar-smoke curl 
about his mustache and beard as he lies back and fixes his light- 
blue eyes contemplatively on the ceiling. 

“ How do I know ? I do not know : I think so. He ought 
to be very well satisfied of knowing a young lady like that — and 
very proud of going to marry her — instead of annoying her with 
bad tempers.” 

“That is true. A young man under such circumstances can- 
not be too grateful or too amiable. They are not always so, how- 
ever. You yourself, for example, when you parted from Fraulein 
Fallersleben — ” 

Here the lieutenant jumped up in his chair, and said, with un- 
necessary vehemence, 

“ Donnerwetter ! look at the provocation I had ! It was not 
my ill-temper ; I am not more ill-tempered than other men : but 
when you know you mean very well, and that you treat a woman 
as perhaps not all men would be inclined to do in the same case, 
and she is a hypocrite, and she pretends much, and at the same 
time she is writing to you, she is — pfui ! I cannot speak of it !” 

“You were very fond of her.” 

“ Worse luck.” 

“ And you had a great fight, and used hard words to each oth- 
er, and parted so that you would rather meet Beelzebub than 
her.” 

“ Why, yes, it is so : I would rather meet twenty Beelzebubs 
than her.” 

“That is the way of you boys. You don’t know that in after- 
years, when all these things have got smooth and misty and dis- 
tant, you will come to like her again; and what will you think 
then of your hard words and your quarrels? If you children 
could only understand how very short youth is, how very long 
middle age is, and how very dull old age is — if you could only un- 
derstand how the chief occupation of the longer half of your life 
is looking back on the first short half of it, you would know the 
value of storing up only pleasant recollections of all your old 
friends. If you find that your sweetheart is a woman compelled 


QUEEN TITANIA AFLOAT. 


63 


by her nature to fall in love with the man nearest her, and forget 
him who is out of the way, why devote her to the infernal gods ? 
In after-years you will be grateful to her for the pleasant days 
and weeks you spent with her, when you were both happy to- 
gether, and you will look back on the old times very tenderly ; 
and then, on those occasions when you German folks drink to the 
health of your absent dear ones, won’t you be glad that you can 
include her who was dear enough to you in your youth ?” 

“ That is very good ; it is quite true,” said the lieutenant, in 
almost an injured tone — as if Fraulein Fallersleben were respon- 
sible. 

“ Look for a moment,” I say to my pensive pupil, “ at the pull 
a man has who has spent his youth in pleasant scenery. When 
he gets old, and can do nothing but live the old life over again 
by looking back, he has only to shut his eyes, and his brain is full 
of fresh and bright pictures of the old times in the country ; and 
the commonest landscape of his youth he will remember then as 
if it were steeped in sunlight.” 

“ That is quite true,” said Von Rosen, thoughtfully ; but the 
next moment he uttered an angry exclamation, started up from 
his chair, and began walking up and down the room. 

“ It is all very well,” he said, with an impatient vehemence, “ to 
be amiable and forgiving when you are old — because you don’t 
care about it, that is the reason. When you ^re young, you ex- 
pect fair play. Do you think if I should be seventy I will care 
one brass farthing whether Pauline — that is, Fraulein Fallersleben 
— was honest or no ? I will laugh at the whole affair then. But 
now, when you are ashamed of the deceit of a woman, is it not 
right you tell her? Is it not right she knows what honest men 
and women think of her, yes? What will she think of you if 
you say to her, ^Farewell, Fraulein ? You have behaved not very 
well ; hut I am amiable; I loill forgive you^'* 

“ There, again : you parted with her in wrath, because you did 
not like to appear weak and complaisant in her eyes.” 

“ At all events, I said what I felt,” said the lieutenant, warmly. 
“ I do think it is only hypocrisy and selfishness to say, hate this 
woman^ hut I will he kind to her, because when I grow old I will 
look hack and consider myself to have been very good.' ” 

“You have been deeply hit, my poor lad; you are quite fe- 
vered about it now. You cannot even see how a man’s own self- 


64 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


respect will make him courteous to a woman whom he despises; 
and is he likely to be sorry for that courtesy when he looks at 
it in cold blood and recognizes the stupendous fact that the man 
who complains of the inconstancy of a woman utters a reflection 
against Providence?” 

“ But you don’t know — you don’t know,” said the count, pitch- 
ing his cigar into the grate, “ what a woman this one showed her- 
self to be. After all, it does not matter. But when I look at 
such a woman as your Miss Bell here — ” 

“ Yes : when you look at her ?” 

“ Why, I see the difference,” said the lieutenant, gloomily ; and 
therewith he pulled out another cigar. 

I stopped this, however, and rung for candles. As he lighted 
his in rather a melancholy fashion, he said, 

“ It is a very good thing to see a woman like that — young- 
hearted, frank, honest in her eyes, and full of pleasantness, too, 
and good spirits — oh ! it is very fine indeed, merely to look at 
her; for you do believe that she is a very good girl, and you 
think there are good women in the world. But as for that young 
man at Twickenham — ” 

“Well, what of him?” 

The lieutenant looked up from the candle, but saw nothing to 
awaken his suspicions. 

“ Oh,” he said, carelessly, as we left the room, “ I do think him 
a most pitiful fellow.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

A GIFT OF TONGUES. 

“ My lady is an archer rare, 

And in the greenwood joyeth she ; 

There never was a marksman yet who could compare 
In skill with my ladie.” 

Early morning in Henley ! From over the wooded hills in 
the east there comes a great flood of sunshine that lies warmly on 
the ruddy side of the old inn, on its evergreens, and on the slopes 
of sweet-scented mignonette, and sweetbrier, and various blossoms 
that adorn the bank of the river. The river itself, lying appar* 


A GIFT OP TONGUES. 


65 


ently motionless between level and green meadows, has its blue 
surface marred here and there by a white ripple of wind; the 
poplars that stand on its banks are rustling in the breeze ; there 
are swallows dipping and skimming about the old bridge, and 
ducks paddling along among the rushes and weeds, and cattle 
browsing in the deep green; and, farther on, some high -lying 
stretches of rye-grass struck into long and silvery waves by the 
morning wind. 

All the stir and motion of the new day have come upon us; 
and Henley, clean, white, and red, with its town - hall shining 
brightly down its chief street, and all its high clusters of old- 
fashioned houses backed by a fringe of dark-wooded hill, shows 
as much life and briskness as are usually seen in a quaint, small, 
old-fashioned English town. But where the silence and the still- 
ness of the morning dwell is away up the reach of the river. 
Standing on the bridge, you see the dark-blue stream, reflecting a 
thousand bright colors underneath the town, gradually become 
grayer in hue until it gets out amidst the meadows and woods ; 
and then, with a bold white curve that is glimmering like silver 
in the north, it sweeps under that line of low, soft green hills 
which have grown pearly and gray in the tender morning mist. 
Bell is standing on the bridge, too. The lieutenant has brought 
out her sketch-book, and she has placed it on the stone parapet 
before her. But somehow she seems disinclined to begin work 
thus early on our journey ; and, instead, her eyes are looking 
blankly and wistfully at the rich green meadows and the red 
cows, and the long white reach of the river shining palely be- 
neath the faint green heights in the north. 

“ Is Henley the prettiest town in the world, I wonder V she 
said. 

“Yes, if you think so, mademoiselle,” replied Von Rosen, 
gently. 

She lifted her eyes towards him, as though she had been un- 
aware of his presence. Then she turned to the stream. 

“ I suppose, if one were to live always among those bright col- 
ors, one would get not to see them, and would forget how flne is 
this old bridge, with the pretty town, and the meadows, and the 
stream. Seeing it only once, I shall never forget Henley, or the 
brightness of this morning.” 

With that, she closed her sketch-book, and looked round for 
5 


66 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Tita. That small person was engaged in making herself extreme- 
ly wretched about her boys and the pony; and was becoming 
vastly indignant because she could get no one to sympathize with 
her wild imaginings of diverse perils and dangers. 

“Why, to hear you talk,” she was saying at this moment, 
“ one would think you had never experienced the feelings of a 
parent — that you did not know you were the father of those two 
poor boys.” 

“That,” I remark to her, “is not a matter on which I am 
bound to express an opinion.” 

“Very pretty — very!” she said, with a contemptuous smile. 
“ But I will say this — that if you had had to buy the pony, the 
boys would have had to wait long enough before they were ex- 
posed to the dangers you think so little about now.” 

“ Madam,” I observe, sternly, “ you are the victim of what the- 
ologians call invincible ignorance. I might have bought that 
pony and all its belongings for a twenty-pound note ; whereas I 
shall have to pay forty pounds a year for its keep.” 

“ Oh, I know,” says my lady, with great sweetness, “ how men 
exaggerate those things. It is convenient. They complain of 
the cost of the horses, of the heaviness of the taxes, and other 
things ; when the real fact is that they are trying to hide what 
they spend out of their income on cigars, and in their clubs when 
they go to town. I counted up our taxes the other day, and I 
don’t believe that they have been over eight pounds for the 
whole of the last six months. Now you know you said they 
were nearly thirty-five pounds a year.” 

“And you counted in those that are due next week, I sup- 
pose ?” 

“ Did you leave money to pay for them ?” she asks, mildly. 

“And you based your calculations on some solitary instalment 
for armorial bearings ? — which you brought into the family, you 
know.” 

“ Yes,” she replies, with an engaging smile. “ That was one 
thing you did not require before — I am sorry to have caused you 
so much expense. But you need not avoid the subject. Mrs. 
Quinet told me last week that she knows her husband pays every 
year sixty -five pounds for club subscriptions alone, and nearly 
forty pounds for cigars.” 

“ Then Mrs. Quinet must have looked into your eyes, my dear. 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


61 

and seen what a simple little thing you are ; for your knowledge 
of housekeeping and other expenses, I will say, is as slight as 
need be, and Mrs. Quinet has been simply making a fool of you. 
For the major belongs to two clubs, and in the one he pays eight 
guineas and in the other ten guineas a year. And he smokes 
Manillas at twenty-five shillings a hundred, which is equivalent, 
my dear — though you will scarcely credit it — to threepence 
apiece.” 

“ The money must go somehow,” says Tita, defiantly. 

“ That is a customary saying among women ; but it generally 
refers to their own little arrangements.” 

“ You avoid the question very skilfully.” 

“ I should have thought you would have preferred that.” 

“ Why ?” she says, looking up. 

“ Because you accused me of stinginess in not buying a pony 
for the boys, and I showed you that I should have to pay forty 
pounds a year for the brute.” 

“ Yes, showed me ! I suppose by that pleasing fiction you will 
gain another twenty pounds a year to spend in Partagas, and Mu- 
rias, and trumpery stuff that the tobacconists tell you came from 
abroad.” 

“ My dear,” I say, “ your insolence is astounding.” 

“ If you call speaking the plain truth insolence, I cannot help 
it. Bell, breakfast must be ready.” 

“ Yes, my lady,” says Bell, coming forward demurely. “ But 
I wasn’t doing anything.” 

So they went off ; and the count and I followed. 

“ What is the matter ?” says he. 

“ Do you know what a ‘ relish ’ is at breakfast ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Then don’t marry, or you will find out.” 

The tall young man with the brown beard and the light eyes 
shrugged his shoulders, and only said, as we walked to the inn, 

“ That is a very pleasant comedy, when it means nothing. If 
it was earnest, you would not find so much enjoyment in it — no, 
not at all — you would not amuse yourselves, like two children, 
instead of the parents of a family. But, my dear friend, it is a 
dangerous thing ; for some day you will meet with a stupid per- 
son, who will not understand how madam and yourself do make 
believe in that way, and that person will be astonished, and will 


68 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


talk of it, and you will botk have a very bad reputation among 
your friends.” 

However, there was one amiable person at the breakfast-table, 
and that was our pretty Bell. 

“ Bell,” I said, “ I am going to sit by you. You never pro- 
voke useless quarrels about nothing ; you are never impertinent ; 
you never argue ; and you can look after a breakfast-table better 
than people twice your age.” 

Bell prudently pretended not to hear; indeed, she was very 
busy helping everybody, and making herself very useful and 
pleasant all round. She seemed to have forgotten her indepen- 
dent ways; and was so good-naturedly anxious to see that the 
lieutenant’s coffee was all right, that he was apparently quite 
touched by her friendliness. And then she was very cheerful 
too ; and was bent on waking up the spirits of the whole party 
— but in a bright, submissive, simple fashion that the audacious 
young lady did not always affect. 

“Did you hear the cocks crowing this morning?” she said, 
turning to Von Rosen with her frank eyes. “ I thought it was 
so pleasant to be waked up that way instead of listening to the 
milkman coming along a dismal London square, and calling up 
the maid-servants with his ^El-choP ^El-choP But did you no- 
tice that one of the cocks cried quite plainly, ‘ OA, go away P 
‘ Oh, go awa-a-ay P — which was a stupid animal to have near an 
inn ; and another fine fellow, who always started with a famous 
fiourish, had got a cold, and at the highest note he went off at a 
tangent into something like a plaintive squeak. The intention 
of that crow, so far as it went, was far better than the feeble 
‘ Oh, go away P of the other ; and I was quite sorry for the poor 
animal. — Do have some more toast, count. — He reminded me of 
poor Major Quinet, Tita, who begins a sentence very well ; but all 
at once it jerks up into the air — goes off like a squib, you know, 
just below his nose; and he looks amazed and ashamed, like a 
boy that has let a bird escape out of a bag.” 

“You need not amuse yourself with the personal defects of 
your neighbors. Bell,” says Tita, who did not expect to have Ma- 
jor Quinet brought forward again. “ Major Quinet is a very well- 
informed and gentlemanly man, and looks after his family and 
his estate with the greatest care.” 

“ I must say, Tita,” retorted Bell (and I trembled for the girl). 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


69 


“ that you have an odd trick of furnishing people with a sort of 
certificate of character, whenever you hear their names mention- 
ed. Very likely the major can manage his affairs in spite of his 
cracked voice ; but you know you told me yourself, Tita, that he 
had been unfortunate in money matters, and was rather perplexed 
just now. Of course I wouldn’t say such a thing of one of your 
friends ; but I have heard of bankrupts ; and I have heard of a 
poor little man being so burdened with debt, that he looked like 
a mouse drawing a brougham, and then, of course, he had to go 
into the court to ask them to unharness him. Do have some 
more coffee, count ; I am sure that is quite cold.” 

“ You ought to be a little careful. Bell,” says my lady. “ You 
know absolutely nothing of Major Quinet, and yet you hint that 
he is insolvent.” 

I didn’t — did I ?” says Bell, turning to her companion. 

“ No,” replies the count, boldly. 

At this Tita looked astonished for a second ; but presently she 
deigned to smile, and say something about the wickedness of 
young people. Indeed, my lady seemed rather pleased by Bell’s 
audacity in appealing to the lieutenant ; and she was in a better 
humor when, some time after, we went out to the river and got a 
boat. 

Once more upon the Thames, we pulled up the river, that lies 
here between wooded hills on the one side and level meadows on 
the other. The broad blue stream was almost deserted ; and as 
we got near the green islands, we could see an occasional young 
moor-hen paddle out from among the rushes, and then go quickly 
in again, with its white tail bobbing in unison with its small head 
and beak. We rowed into the sluice of the mill that lies under 
Park Place, and there, having floated down a bit under some wil- 
lows, we fixed the boat to a stump of a tree, landed, and managed 
to get into the road along which we had driven the previous night. 
As we ascended this pleasant path, which is cut through the woods 
of various mansions, and looks down upon the green level of War- 
grave Marsh, and the shining meadows beyond the other bank of 
the river, the ascents and descents of the road seemed less precip- 
itous than they had appeared the night before. What we had 
taken, further, for wild masses of rock, and fearful chasms, and 
dangerous bridges, were found to be part of the ornamentation 
of a park — the bridge spanning a hollow having been built of 


70 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


sham rock-work, which, in the daylight, clearly revealed its origin. 
Nevertheless, this road leading through the river-side woods is a 
sufficiently picturesque and pleasant one ; and in sauntering along 
for a mile or two and back we consumed a goodly portion of the 
morning. Then there was a brisk pull back to Henley ; and the 
phaeton was summoned to appear. 

When the horses were put in, and the phaeton brought out, I 
found that Von Rosen had quietly abstracted the bearing -reins 
from the harness some time during the morning. However, no 
one could grudge the animals this relief, for the journey they had 
to make to-day, though not over twenty-three miles, was consid- 
erably hilly. 

Now Tita had come early out, and had evidently planned a nice 
little arrangement. She got in behind. Then she bade Bell get 
up in front. The lieutenant had lingered for a moment in search 
of a cigar-case ; and my lady had clearly determined to ask him 
to drive so soon as he came out. But, as she had not expressed 
any contrition for her conduct of that morning, some punishment 
was required; and so, just as Von Rosen came out, I took the 
reins, stepped up beside Bell, and he, of course, was left to join 
the furious little lady behind. 

“ I thought the count was going to drive,” says Tita, with a 
certain cold air. “ Surely the road to Oxford is easy to find.” 

“ It is,” I say to her. “ For you know all roads lead to Rome, 
and they say that Oxford is half-way to Rome — argal — ” 

But knowing what effect this reference to her theological sym- 
pathies was likely to have on Tita, I thought it prudent to send 
the horses on ; and as they sprung forward and rattled up the 
main street of Henley, her retort, if any, was lost in the noise. 
There was a laugh in Bell’s eyes ; but she seemed rather fright- 
ened all the same, and said nothing for some time. 

The drive from Henley to Oxford is one of the finest in Eng- 
land, the road leading gradually up through pleasant pastures and 
great woods until it brings you on to a common — the highest 
ground south of the Trent — from which you see an immeasurable 
wooded plain stretching away into the western horizon. First of 
all, as we left Henley on that bright morning, the sweet air blow- 
ing coolly among the trees, and bringing us odors from wild fiow- 
ers and breadths of new-mown hay, we leisurely rolled along what 
is appropriately called the Fair Mile, a broad smooth highway 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


1l 


running between Lambridge Wood and No Man’s Hill, and hav- 
ing a space of grassy common on each side of it. This brought 
us up to Assenton Cross, and here, the ascent getting much more 
stiff. Bell took the reins, and the count and I walked up the hill 
until we reached Bix Turnpike. 

“ What a curious name !” said Bell, as she pulled the horses up. 

“ Most likely,” said the lieutenant, who was looking at an an- 
cient edition of Cary’s “ Itinerary,” “ it is from the old Saxon becCy 
the beech-tree, which is plentiful here. But in this book I find it 
is Bixgibwen, which is not in the modern books. Now what is 
gihwen 

“ St. Caedwyn, of course,” said Bell, merrily. 

“ You laugh, but perhaps it is true,” replied the lieutenant, with 
the gravity befitting a student : “ why not St. Caedwyn’s beeches ? 
You do call many places about here by the trees. There is As- 
senton ; that is the place of ash-trees. We shall soon be at Net- 
tlebed ; and then comes Nuflfield, which is Nut-field — how do you 
call your wildnut-tree in England ?” 

“ The hazel,” said Bell. “ But that is commonplace ; I like the 
discovery about St. Caedwyn’s beeches better : and here, sure 
enough, they are.” 

The road at this point — something less than a mile past Bix 
Turnpike — plunges into a spacious forest of beeches, which 
stretches along the summit of the hill almost on to Nettlebed. 
And this road is bordered by a strip of common, which again leads 
into a tangled maze of bracken and brier ; and then you have the 
innumerable stems of the beeches, showing long vistas into the 
green heart of the wood. The sunlight was shimmering down 
on this wilderness, lying warmly on the road and its green margin, 
and piercing here and there with golden arrows the dense canopy 
of leaves beyond. High as we were, the light breeze was shut off 
by the beeches, and in the long broad cleft in which the road lay 
the air was filled with resinous odors, that of the tall green and 
yellow brackens prevailing. An occasional jay fled screaming 
down between the smooth gray branches, giving us a glimpse of 
white and blue as it vanished ; but otherwise there seemed to be 
no birds about, and the wild underwood and long alleys lay still 
and warm in the green twilight of the leaves. 

“ It is very like the Black Forest, I think,” said the lieutenant. 

“ Oh, it is much lighter in color,” cried Bell. “ Look at all 


72 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

those silver grays of the stems and the lichens, and clear green 
overhead, and the light browns and reds beneath, where the sun- 
light shines down through a veil. It is lighter, prettier, more 
cheerful than your miles of solemn pines, with the great roads cut 
through them for the carts, and the gloom and stillness under- 
neath, where there is no growth of underwood, but only level beds 
of green moss dotted with dropped cones.” 

“You have a very accurate eye for colors, mademoiselle; no 
wonder you paint so well,” was all that the lieutenant said. But 
Tita warmly remonstrated with Bell. 

“ You know. Bell,” she said, “ that all the Black Forest is not 
like that; there is every variety of forest scenery there. And 
pray. Miss Criticism, where were the gloomy pines and the sol- 
emn avenues in a certain picture which was sold at the Dudley 
last year for twenty-five solid English sovereigns ?” 

“You needn’t tell Count Von Rosen what my income is,” said 
Bell. “ I took two months to paint that picture.” 

“That is a very good income,” said the lieutenant, with a 
smile. 

“ I do not like people with large incomes,” said Bell, dexter- 
ously avoiding that part of the subject. “I think they must 
have qualms sometimes, or else be callous. Now, I would have 
everybody provided with a certain income, say two hundred 
pounds a year ; but I would not like to prevent all competition, 
and so I would fix an income at which all people must stop. 
They might strive and strive if they liked, just like bells of air 
in a Champagne glass, you know, but they should only be able to 
reach a certain level in the end. I would have nobody with more 
than one thousand pounds a year ; that would be my maximum.” 

“ A thousapd a year !” exclaimed Tita. “ Isn’t a thousand ten 
hundred ?” 

“ Yes,” said Bell, after a second’s calculation. 

“And suppose you have one hundred to pay for two boys at 
school, and another hundred for rent, and another hundred for 
the keep of two horses, and a hundred and twenty for servants’ 
wages — ” 

“ Perhaps, Tita,” I suggest in the meekest possible way, “ you 
might as well tell Count Von Rosen what you pay for a leg of 
mutton, so that when he next comes to dine with us he may en- 
joy himself the more.” 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


73 


It is well that the lightning which is said to dart from wom- 
en’s eyes is a harmless sort of thing — a flash in the pan, as it 
were, which is very pretty, but sends no deadly lead out. How- 
ever, as Queen Tita had really behaved herself very well since we 
set out from Henley, I begged Bell to stop and let us in, and 
then I asked the lieutenant if he would drive. 

By this time we had walked the horses nearly to the end of 
the pleasant stretch of beech wood, which is about a mile and a 
half long, and before us was a bit of breezy common and the 
village of Nettlebed. Von Rosen took the reins and sent the 
horses forward. 

“ Why did you not continue to drive ?” said Tita, rather tim- 
idly, when I had taken my seat beside her. 

“ Because we shall presently have to go down steep hills ; and 
as the count took oif the bearing-reins this morning, we may as 
well hold him responsible for not letting the horses down.” 

I thought perhaps you wanted to sit beside me,” she said, in 
a low voice. 

‘‘ \Vell, now you mention it, my dear, that was the reason.” 

“It would have been a sufficient reason a good many years 
ago,” she said, with a flne affectation of tenderness ; “ but that is 
all over now. You have been very rude to me.” 

“ Then don’t say anything more about it : receive my forgive- 
ness, Tita.” 

“ That was not the way you used to speak to me when we 
were at Eastbourne,” she said ; and with that she looked very 
much as if she were going to cry. Of course she was not going 
to cry. She has had the trick of looking like that from her 
youth upward ; but as it is really about as pretty and pathetic as 
the real thing, it invariably answers the same purpose. It is un- 
derstood to be a signal of surrender, a sort of appeal for com- 
passion ; and so the rest of this conversation, being of a quite 
private nature, need not be made public. 

The count was taking us at a brisk pace across the bit of com- 
mon, and then we rattled into the little clump of red-brick houses 
which forms the picturesque village of Nettlebed. Now, if he 
had been struck with some recollection of the Black Forest on 
seeing Nettlebed Wood, imagine his surprise on flnding the little 
inn in the village surmounted by a picture of a white deer with 
a royal crown on its head, a fair resemblance to the legendary 


74 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


creature that appeared to St. Hubertus, and that figures in so 
many of the Schwarzwald stories and pictures. However, we 
were out of Nettlebed before he could properly express his as- 
tonishment, and in the vast picture that was now opening out 
before us there was little that was German. 

We stopped on the summit of Nufiield Heath, and found be- 
low, as far as the eye could reach, the great and fertile plain of 
Berkshire, with a long and irregular line of hill shutting it in on 
the south. In this plain of Fields, as they are called — Wallingford 
Field, Didcot Field, Long Whittenham Field, and so on — small 
villages peeped out from among the green woods and pastures, 
where a faint blue smoke rose up into the sunshine. Here, as 
Bell began to expound — for she had been reading “ The Scour- 
ing of the White Horse” and various other books to which that 
romantic monograph had directed her — some great deeds had 
happened in the olden time. Along that smooth line of hill in 
the south — now lying blue in the haze of the light — the Romans 
had cut a road which is still called the Ridgeway or Iccleton 
Street ; and in the villages of the plain, from Pangbourne in the 
south-east to Shellingford in the north-west, traces of the Roman 
occupation were frequently found. And then, underneath that 
blue ridge of hill and down lay Wantage, in which King Alfred 
was born ; and farther on the ridge itself becomes Dragon’s Hill, 
where St. George slew the beast that ravaged this fair land ; and 
there, as all men know, is the figure of the White Horse cut on 
the slope to commemorate the great battle of Ashdown. 

“ And Ashdown, is that there also ?” asked the lieutenant. 

“ Well, no,” said Bell, trying to remember what she had been 
told ; “ I think there is some doubt about it. King Alfred, you 
know, fell back from Reading when he was beaten, but he stop- 
ped somewhere on the hills near — ” 

“Why not the hill we have just come up?” said the lieu- 
tenant, with a laugh. “ It is near Reading, is it not ? and there 
you have Assenton, which is Ashenton, which is Ashendown, 
which is Ashdown.” 

“ Precisely,” says Tita, with ^ gracious smile. “ All you have 
to do is to change John into Julius, and Smith into Caesar, and 
there you are.” 

“ But that is not fair, Tita,” said Bell, turning round, and 
pleading quite seriously. “ Assenton is the same as Ashendon, 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


15 


and that is the name of the place where the battle was fought. 
I think Count Von Rosen is quite right.” 

“ Well, if you think so, Bell, that settles it,” said my lady, look- 
ing rather pleased than otherwise. 

And so we began to descend into this plain of many memo- 
ries by a steep road that is appropriately called Gangsdown Hill. 
From thence a succession of undulations carried us into the green 
breadths of Crowmarsh Field ; until, finally, we drove into the 
village of Bensington, and pulled up at The Crown there, where 
we proposed to have some luncheon. 

“ This is a village of the dead,” said Tita, looking down the 
main thoroughfare, where not a living soul was to be seen. 

But at all events a human being appeared in the yard — not a 
withered and silent hostler, but a stout, hale, cheerful person, 
whose white shirt-sleeves and gold chain proclaimed him land- 
lord. With the aid of a small boy, he undertook to put the 
horses up for an hour or two ; and then we went into the inn. 
Here we found that, as the man in the yard was at once landlord 
and hostler, his wife inside was landlady, cook, and waitress ; and 
in a short space of time she had brought us some chops. Not 
much time was spent over the meal, for the parlor in which we 
sat — albeit it was a sort of museum of wonderful curiosities, and 
was, moreover, enlivened by the presence of a crack-voiced cock- 
atoo — was rather small and dark. Accordingly, while the horses 
were having their rest, we sauntered out to have a look at Ben- 
sington. 

It is probably not the dullest little village in England, but it 
would be hard to find a duller. There was an old shepherd with 
a crook in his hand and a well-worn smock-frock on his back, 
who was leaning over the wooden palings in front of a house, 
and playfully talking to a small boy who stood at an open door. 
With many old country people it is considered the height of rail- 
lery to alarm a boy with stories of the punishment he is about to 
receive for something, and to visit him with an intimation that 
all his sins have been found out. This old shepherd, with his 
withered-pippin face, and his humorous grin, and his lazy arms 
folded on the top of the palings, was evidently enjoying himself 
vastly. 

“A wur a-watchin’ o’ thee, a wur, and thy vather, he knaws, 
too, and he’ll gie thee thy vairin wi’ a good tharn stick when he 


76 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


comes hwom. A zali thee this marnin’, my lad — thou’lt think 
nah one wur thear, eh ?” 

We left this good-natured old gentleman frightening the boy, 
and went round to the outskirts of the village. Here, at least, 
we found one explanation of the inordinate silence of Bensington 
— the children were all at their lessons. The door of the plain 
little building, which had British School inscribed over the en- 
trance, was open, and from within there issued a low, confused 
murmur. The Prussian, anxious to see something of the interior 
of an English school, walked up to the place ; but he had just 
managed to cast a glance round on the rows of children when the 
door was politely shut in his face, and he returned, saying, 

“ I am not an inspector ; why need they fear ?” 

But when, after wandering about the suburban gardens and 
by-ways for a space, we returned to Bensington, we found that 
important village in a state of profound excitement. In the 
main thoroughfare a concourse of five people had assembled — 
three women and two children — and from the doors of the houses 
on both sides of the street innumerable faces, certainly not less 
than a dozen, were gazing forth. It is true that the people did 
not themselves come out — they seemed rather to shrink from 
courting publicity ; but they were keenly alive to what was going 
on, and Bensington had become excited. 

For there had appeared in the main street a little, dry, odd old 
man, who was leading a small donkey-cart, and who was evident- 
ly rather the worse for liquor. He was a seller of pease. He 
had summoned the inhabitants to come out and buy the pease, 
and he was offering them at what we were told were very reason- 
able terms. But just as the old man was beginning to enjoy the 
receipt of customs, there drove into the place a sharp, brisk, mid- 
dle-aged man, with a shiny face, a fine presence, and a ringing 
voice. This man had a neat cart, a handsome pony, and his name 
was printed in large letters, so that all could read. He was also 
a seller of pease. Now, although this rude and ostentatious own- 
er of the pony was selling his produce at fourpence, while the 
humble proprietor of the donkey sold his at threepence, the wom- 
en recalled their children and bade them go to the dearer market. 
There was something in the appearance of the man, in the neat- 
ness of his cart, and in the ringing cheerfulness of his voice, which 
told you he sold good pease. This was the cause of the great 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


11 


perturbation in Bensington ; for no sooner did the half-tipsy old 
man see that his rival was carrying the day before him than he 
leaned his arms over his donkey’s head, and began to make iron- 
ical comments on his enemy and on the people of Bensington. 
He was apparently in the best of spirits. You would have 
thought it delighted him to see the small girls come timidly for- 
ward to him, and then be warned away by a cry from their moth- 
ers that they were to go to the other cart. Nay, he went the 
length of advertising his neighbor’s wares. He addressed the as- 
sembled multitudes — by this time there were nearly fifteen people 
visible in Bensington — and told them he wouldn’t sell his pease 
if he was to get a fortune for them. 

“ Pay your foppence,” he said to them, in accents which show- 
ed he was not of Bensington born, “ there are yer right good 
pease. It’s all along o’ my donkey as you’ll not take mine, 
though they’re only thrippence. I wouldn’t sell. I won’t sell 
this day. Take back yer money. I won’t sell my pease at a 
crown apiece — darned if I do !” 

And with that he left his donkey and went over to the propri- 
etor of the pony. He was not in a fighting mood — not he. He 
challenged his rival to run the pony against the donkey, and of- 
fered to bet the donkey would be in London a week before the 
other. The man in the cart took no notice of these sallies. In 
a brisk, practical, methodical fashion, he was measuring out his 
pease, and handing them down to the uplifted bowls that sur- 
rounded him. Sometimes he grinned in a good-natured way at 
the facetious remarks of his unfortunate antagonist; but all, the 
same he stuck to his business and drove a thriving trade. How 
there came to be on that afternoon so many people in Bensington 
who wished to buy pease must remain a mystery. 

“And now,” said Bell, as we once more got into the phaeton, 
“we shall be in Oxford in two hours. Do you think the post- 
oflfice will be open ?” 

“ Very likely,” said Tita, with some surprise ; “ but do you ex- 
pect letters already. Bell ?” 

“You cannot tell,” said the young lady, with just a shade of 
embarrassment, “ how soon Kate may send letters after us. And 
she knows we are to stop a day at Oxford. It will not be too 
dark to go hunting for the post-office, will it ?” 

“ But you shall not go,” said the lieutenant, giving a shake to 


78 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


the reins, as if in obedience to Bell’s wish. “When you have 
got to the hotel, I will go and get your letters for you.” 

“ Oh no, thank you,” said Bell, in rather a hurried and anxious 
way. “ I should prefer much to go for them myself, thank you.” 

That was all that was said on the subject; and Bell, we no- 
ticed, was rather silent for the first few miles of our afternoon 
drive. The lieutenant did his best to amuse her, and carried on 
a lively conversation chiefly by himself. That mention of letters 
seemed to have left Bell rather serious ; and she was obviously 
not overdelighted at the prospect of reaching Oxford. 

The road from Bensington thither is pleasant enough, but not 
particularly interesting. For the most part it descends by a se- 
ries of undulations into the level plain watered by the Isis, the 
Cherwell, and the Thames. But the mere notion of approach- 
ing that famous city, which is consecrated with memories of Eng- 
land’s greatest men — statesmen and divines, melancholy philoso- 
phers and ill-starred poets — is in itself impressive, and lends to 
the rather commonplace landscape an air of romance. While as 
yet the old town lies unseen amidst the woods that crowd up to 
the very edge of the sky, one fancies the bells of the colleges are 
to be heard, as Pope heard them when he rode, a solitary horse- 
man, over these very hills, and down into the plain, and up to 
Magdalen Bridge.* We cared little to look at the villages, strung 
like beads on the winding thread of the road — Shellingford, Dor- 
chester, Nuneham Courtenay, and Sandford — nor did we even 
turn aside to go down to Iffley and the Thames. It was seven 
when we drew near Oxford. There were people sauntering out 
from the town to have their evening walk. When, at last, we 


* “ Nothing could have more of that melancholy which once used to please 
me than my last day’s journey ; for after having passed through my favorite 
woods in the forest, with a thousand reveries of past pleasures, I rid over 
hanging hills, whose tops were edged with groves, and whose feet watered 
with winding rivers, listening to the falls of cataracts below and the murmur- 
ing of the winds above ; the gloomy verdure of Stonor succeeded to these, 
and then the shades of evening overtook me. The moon rose in the clearest 
sky I ever saw, by whose solemn light I paced on slowly, without company, or 
any interruption to the range of my thoughts. About a mile before I reached 
Oiiord, all the bells tolled in different notes ; the clocks of every college an- 
swered one another and sounded forth (some in deeper, some in a softer tone) 
that it was eleven at night. All this was no ill preparation to the life I have 
led since among those old walls, venerable galleries, stone porticos, studious 
walks, and solitary scenes of the University .” — Pope to Mrs. Martha Blount. 
[Stonor Park lies about two miles to the right of Bix turnpike.] 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


79 


stopped to pay toll in front of the old lichen-covered bridge across 
the Oherwell, the tower of Magdalen College, and the magnificent 
elms on the other side of the way, had caught a tinge of red 
from the dusky sunset, and there was a faint refiection of crimson 
down on the still waters that lay among the rank green meadows. 
Then we drove on into the High Street, and here, in the gather- 
ing dusk, the yellow lamps were beginning to glimmer. Should 
we pull up at The Angel — that famous hostlery of ancient times, 
whose name used to be inscribed on so many notable coaches? 
“We put up at The Angel Inn,” writes Mr. Boswell, “and passed 
the evening by ourselves in easy and familiar conversation.” 
Alas ! The Angel has now been pulled down. Or shall we fol- 
low the hero of “ The Splendid Shilling,” who, 

“ When nightly mists arise. 

To Juniper’s Magpie or Town-hall repairs ?” 

They, too, are gone. But as Castor and Pollux, during these 
moments of doubt and useless reminiscence, are still taking us 
over the rough stones of the “High,” some decision must be 
come to ; and so, at a sudden instigation. Count Von Rosen pulls 
up in front of The Mitre, which is an appropriate sign for the 
High Street of Oxford, and betokens age and respectability. 

The stables of The Mitre are clean, well ventilated, and well 
managed — indeed, no better stables could have been found for 
putting up the horses for their next day’s rest. When we had 
seen to their comfort, we returned to the inn, and found that my 
lady and Bell had not only had all the luggage conveyed to our 
respective rooms, but had ordered dinner, changed their attire, 
and were waiting for us in the square, old-fashioned, low-roofed 
coffee-room which looks out into the High Street. A tall waiter 
was laying the cloth for us ; the lights were lighted all round the 
wall ; our only companions were two elderly gentlemen who sat 
in a remote comer, and gave themselves up to politics ; and Bell, 
having resolved to postpone her inquiry about letters until next 
morning — in obedience to the very urgent entreaties of the lieu- 
tenant — seemed all the more cheerful for that resolution. 

But if our two friends by the fireplace could not overhear our 
talk, we could overhear theirs ; and all the time we sat at dinner 
we were receiving a vast amount of enlightenment about the con- 
dition of the country. The chief spokesman was a short, stout 


80 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


person, with a fresh, healthy, energetic face, keen gray eyes, bushy 
gray whiskers, a bald head, and a black-satin waistcoat ; his com- 
panion, a taller and thinner man, with straight black hair, sallow 
cheeks, and melancholy dark eyes : and the former, in a some- 
what pompous manner, was demonstrating the blindness of ordi- 
nary politicians to the wrath that was to come. Lord Palmer- 
ston saw it, he said. There was no statesman ever like Lord 
Palmerston — there would never be his like again. For was not 
the North bound to fight the South in every country ? And what 
should we do if the men of the great manufacturing towns were 
to come down on us? There were two Englands in this island — 
and the Westminster Houses knew nothing of the rival camps 
that were being formed. And did not the North always beat the 
South? Did not Rome beat Carthage? and the Huns the Ro- 
mans? and the Northern States the Southern States? and Prus- 
sia Austria? and Germany France? And when the big -limbed 
and determined men of Birmingham, Leeds, Manchester, Preston, 
Newcastle, and such towns, rose to sweep aside the last feudal in- 
stitutions of this country, of what avail would be a protest on the 
part of the feeble and self-indulgent South ? 

“ This kingdom, sir,” said the gentleman with the satin waist- 
coat and gold seals, in such lofty tones that Count Von Rosen 
scarcely minded his dinner — “ this kingdom, sir, is more divided 
at this moment than it was during the Wars of the Roses. It is 
split into hostile factions ; and which is the more patriotic ? Nei- 
ther. There is no patriotism left — only the selfishness of class. 
We care no more for the country as a country. We are cosmo- 
politan. The scepticism of the first French Revolution has poi- 
soned our big towns. We tolerate a monarchy as a harmless toy. 
We tolerate an endowed priesthood, because we think they can- 
not make our peasantry more ignorant than they are. We allow 
pauperism to increase and eat into the heart of the State, because 
we think it no business of ours to interfere. We see our lowest 
classes growing up to starve or steal, in ignorance and dirt ; our 
middle classes scrambling for wealth to get out of the state they 
were born in; our upper classes given over to luxury and de- 
bauchery — patriotism gone — Continental nations laughing at us 
— our army a mere handful of men with incompetent officers — 
our navy made the subject of destructive experiments by interest- 
ed cliques — our Government ready to seize on the most revolu- 


A GIFT OF TONGUES. 


81 


tionary schemes to get together a majority and remain in power 
— selfishness, incompetence, indifference become paramount — it is 
horrible, sir, it is Orrible.” 

In his anxiety to be emphatic, he left out that one “ h it was 
his only slip. Our lieutenant turned to Tita, and said, 

“ I have met many English people in Germany who have 
spoken to me like that. They do seem to have a pride in criti- 
cising themselves and their country. Is it because they feel they 
are so strong, and so rich, and so good, that they can afford to 
dispraise themselves ? Is it because they feel themselves so very 
safe in this island that they think little of patriotism, yes ? But 
I have observed this thing — that when it is a foreigner who be- 
gins to say such things of England, your countryman he instant- 
ly changes his tone. He may say himself bad things of his coun- 
try ; but he will not allow any one else. That is very good — 
very right. But I would rather have a Frenchman who is very 
vain of his country, and says so at every moment, than an En- 
glishman who is very vain and pretends to disparage it. The 
Frenchman is more honest.” 

“ But there are many Englishmen who think England wants 
great improvements,” said Tita. 

“ Improvements ! Yes. But it is another thing you hear so 
many Englishmen say, that their country is all wrong — ‘ going to 
the dogs’ is what you say for that. Well, they do not believe it 
true — it is impossible to be true ; and they do not look well with 
us foreigners when they say so. For myself, I like to see a man 
proud of his country, whatever country it is ; and if my country 
were England, do not you think I should be proud of her great 
history, and her great men, and her powers of filling the world 
with colonies, and — what I think most of all — her courage in 
making the country free to every man, and protecting opinions 
that she herself does not believe, because it is right ? When my 
countrymen hear Englishmen talk like that, they cannot under- 
stand.” 

You should have seen our Bell’s face — the pride and gratitude 
that were in her eyes, while she did not speak. 

“You would not have us go about praising ourselves for doing 
right ?” said Tita. 

“ No,” he said, “ but you ought not to go about professing 
yourselves to be less satisfied with your country than you are.” 

6 


82 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Before breaking up for the night, we came to a reckoning 
about our progress, and probable line of route. Fifty-eight miles 
— that was the exact distance, by straight road, we had got on 
our way to Scotland at the end of the third day. 

“ And to-morrow,” said Tita, as she finished giving the lieuten- 
ant his first lesson in bezique, “ counts for nothing, as we remain 
here. Fifty-eight miles in three days looks rather small, does it 
not ? But I suppose we shall get there in course of time.” 

“ Yes,” said Bell, gently, as she put the markers straight, “ in 
Pollux’s course of time.” 

My lady rose, and in her severest tones ordered the girl to bed. 

[Note by Queen Titania. — “ If these jottings of our journey come to be pub- 
lished, I beg to say that, so far as I appear in them, they are a little unfair. 
I hope I am not so very terrible a person as all that comes to, I have no- 
ticed in some other families that a man of obstinate will and of uncertain tem- 
per likes nothing so much as to pretend to his friends that he suffers dread- 
fully from the tyranny of his wife. It is merely self-complacency. He knows 
no one dares thwart him ; and so he thinks it rather humorous to give him- 
self the air of being much injured, and of being very good-natured. I dare 
say, however, most people who look at these memoranda will be able to decide 
whether the trifling misunderstandings — which have been much exaggerated 
and made to look seriom — were owing to me. But as for Bell, I do not think 
it right to joke about her position at all. She does her best to keep up her 
spirits — and she is a brave, good girl, who likes to be cheerful if only for the 
sake of those around her ; but this affair of Arthur Ashburton is causing her 
deep anxiety and a good deal of vexation. Why she should have some vague 
impression that she has treated him badly, I cannot see ; for the very reverse 
is the case. But surely it is unfair to make this lovers' quarrel the pretext for 
dragging Bell into a wild romance, which the writer of the foregoing pages 
seems bent on doing. Indeed, with regard to this subject, I cannot do better 
than repeat a conversation which, with characteristic ingenuity^ he has entirely 
omitted. He said to me, while we were wandering about Bensington — and 
Bell had strolled on with Count Von Rosen — 

‘“After all, our phaeton is not a microcosm. We have not the complete 
elements for a romance. We have no villain with us.’ 

“ ‘ You flatter yourself,’ I remarked ; which did not seem to please him, but 
he pretended not to hear. 

“ ‘ There will be no dark background to our adventures — no crime, secrecy, 
plotting, or malicious thwarting of Bell’s happiness. It will be like a ma^c- 
lantern slide with all the figures painted in rose-color.’ 

“ ‘ What do you mean by Bell’s happiness V I asked. 

“ ‘ Her marriage with the lieutenant, and there is no villain to oppose it. 
Even if we had a villain, there is no room for him : the phaeton only holds 
four comfortably.’ 

“ Really this was too much. I could scarcely control my impatience with 
such folly. I have said before that the girl does not wish to marry any one ; 
but if there were any thought of marriage in her mind, surely her anxiety 
about that letter points in a different way. Of course I was immediately 
taunted with scheming to throw Bell and Count Von Rosen together during 
our drive. I admit that I did so, and mean to do so. We ought not to ex- 


ATRA CURA. 


83 


pect young folks to be always delighted with the society of their elders. It 
is only natural that these two young people should become companions ; but 
what of that ? And as to the speech about a villain, who ever saw one ? 
Out of a novel or a play, I never saw a villain, and I don’t know anybody who 
ever did. It seems to me there is a good deal of self-satisfaction in the no- 
tion that we four are all so angelic that it wants some disagreeable person to 
throw us into relief. Are we all painted in rose-color? Looking back over 
these pages, I do not think so ; but I am not surprised — considering who had 
the wielding of ike hrmh. And yet I think we have so far enjoyed ourselves 
very well, considering that I am supposed to be very hard to please, and very 
quarrelsome. Perhaps none of us are so amiable as we ought to be ; and yet 
we manage to put up with one another somehow. In the mean time, I am 
grieved to see Bell, without the intervention of any villain whatever, under- 
going great anxiety ; and I wish the girl had sufficient courage to sit down at 
once and write to Arthur Ashburton and absolutely forbid him to do anything 
so foolish as seek an interview with her. If he should do so, it is impossible 
to say what may come of it, for our Bell has a good deal of pride with all her 
gentleness. — T.”] 


CHAPTER VII. 

ATRA CURA. 

“ 0 gentle wind that bloweth south, 

To where my love repaireth. 

Convey a kiss to his dear mouth, 

And tell me how he fareth ! ” 

“ Mt dear, you are unpliilosophical. Why should you rebuke 
Bell for occasionally using one of those quaint American phrases, 
which have wandered into this country? I can remember a 
young person who had a great trick of quoting Italian — especial- 
ly in moments of tenderness — but that was a long time ago — and 
perhaps she has forgotten — ” 

“ It is shameful of you,” says Queen Titania, hastily, “ to en- 
courage Bell in that way. She would never do anything of the 
kind but for you. And you know very well that quoting a for- 
eign language is quite a different thing from using those stupid 
Americanisms which are only fit for negro concerts.” 

“ My dear, you are unphilosophical. When America started in 
business on her own account, she forgot to furnish herself with 
an independent language ; but ever since she has been working 
hard to supply the want. By-and-by you will find an American 
language — sharp, concise, expressive — built on the diffuse and 
heavy foundations of our own English. Why should not Bell 


84 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


use those tentative phrases which convey so much in so few sylla- 
hies? Why call it slang? What is slang but an effort at com 
ciseness ?” 

Tita looked puzzled, vexed, and desperate ; and inadvertently 
turned to Count Von Rosen, who was handing the sugar-basin 
to Bell. He seemed to understand the appeal, for he immediate- 
ly said, 

“ Oh, but you do know that is not the objection. I do not 
think mademoiselle talks in that way, or should be criticised 
about it by any one ; but the wrong that is done by introducing 
the slang words is, that it destroys the history of a language. It 
perverts the true meaning of roots — it takes away the poetry of 
derivations — it confuses the student.” 

“ And who thought of students when the various objects in life 
were named ? And whence came the roots ? And is not lan- 
guage always an experiment, producing fresh results as people 
find it convenient, and leaving students to frame laws as they 
like ? And why are we to give up succinct words or phrases be- 
cause the dictionaries of the last generation consecrated them to 
a particular use ? My dear children, the process of inventing lan- 
guage goes on from year to year, changing, modifying, supplying, 
and building up new islands out of the common sand and the 
sea. What to-day is slang, to-morrow is language, if one may be 
permitted to parody Feuerbach. And I say that Bell, having an 
accurate ear for fit sounds, shall use such words as she likes ; and 
if she can invent epithets of her own — ” 

“ But, please, I don’t wish to do anything of the kind,” says 
Bell, looking quite shamefaced. 

That is just the way of those women : interfere to help them 
in a difficulty, and they straightway fly over to the common ene- 
my, especially if he happens to represent a social majority. 

I began to perceive about this stage of our journey that a large 
number of small articles over which Bell had charge were now 
never missing. Whenever she wanted a map, or a guide-book, 
or any one of the things which had been specially intrusted to 
her, it was forthcoming directly. Nay, she never had, like Tita, 
to look for a hat, or a shawl, or a scarf, or a packet of bezique- 
cards. I also began to notice that when she missed one of those 
things, she somehow inadvertently turned to our lieutenant, who 
was quite sure to know where it was, and to hand it to her on the 


ATRA CURA. 


85 


instant. The consequence on this morning was, that when we all 
came down prepared to go out for an exploration of Oxford, we 
found Bell at the window of the coffee-room, already dressed, and 
looking placidly out into the High Street, where the sunlight was 
shining down on the top of the old-fashioned houses opposite, 
and on the brand-new bank, which, as a compliment to the pre- 
vailing style of the city, has been built in very distinguished 
Gothic. 

It was proposed that we should first go down and have a look 
at Christ Church. 

“ And that will just take us past the post-office,” said Bell. 

“ Why, how do you know that ? Have you been out ?” asked 
Titania. 

“No,” replied Bell, simply. “But Count Von Rosen told me 
where it was.” 

“ Oh, I have been all over the town this morning,” said the 
lieutenant, carelessly. “ It is the finest town that I have yet seen 
— a sort of Gothic Munich, but old, very old — not new, and white 
like Munich, where the streets are asking you to look at their fine 
buildings. And I have been down to the river — that is very fine, 
too; even the appearance of the old colleges and buildings from 
the meadows — that is wonderful.” 

“Have you made any other discoveries this morning?” said 
Queen Tita, with a gracious smile. 

“ Yes,” said the young man, lightly. “ I have discovered that 
the handsome young waiter who gave us our breakfast — that he 
has been a rider in a circus, which I did suspect myself, from his 
manner and attitudes — and also an actor. He is a very fine man, 
but not much spirit. I was asking him this morning why he is 
not a soldier. He despises that, because you pay a shilling a day. 
That is a pity your soldiers are not — what shall I say ? — respecta- 
ble ; that your best young men do not like to go with them, and 
become under-officers. But I do not know he is very good stuff 
for a soldier — he smiles too much, and makes himself pleasant. 
Perhaps that is only because he is a waiter.” 

“ Have you made any other acquaintances this morning ?” says 
Tita, with a friendly amusement in her eyes. 

“ No, no one — except the old gentleman who did talk politics 
last night. He is gone away by the train to Birmingham.” 

“ Pray when do you get up in the morning ?” 


80 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ I did not look that ; but there was no one in the streets when 
I went out, as there would be in a German town ; and even now 
there is a great dulness. I have inquired about the students — 
they are all gone home — it is a vacation. And a young lady in 
a book-shop told me that there is no life in the town when the 
students are gone; that all places close early ; that even the mil- 
liners’ shops are closed just now at half-past seven, while they are 
open till nine when the students are here.” 

“And what,” says my lady, with a look of innocent wonder, 
“ what have the students to do with milliners’ shops, that such 
places should be kept open on their account ?” 

No one could offer a sufficient solution of this problem ; and 
so we left the coffee-room and plunged into the glare of the High 
Street. 

It would be useless to attempt here any detailed account of 
that day’s long and pleasant rambling through Oxford. To any 
one who knows the appearance and the associations of the grand 
old city — who is familiar with the various mass of crumbling col- 
leges, and quiet cloisters, and grassy quadrangles — who has wan- 
dered along the quaint clean streets that look strangely staid and 
orthodox, and are as old as the splendid elms that break in con- 
tinually on the lines and curves of the prevailing architecture — to 
one who has even seen the city at a distance, with its many spires 
and turrets set amidst fair green meadows, and girt about with 
the silver windings of streams — any such brief recapitulation 
would be wholly bald and useless ; while he to whom Oxford is 
unknown can learn nothing of its beauties and impressions with- 
out going there. Our party absolutely refused to go sight-seeing, 
and were quite content to accept the antiquarian researches of the 
guide-books on credit. It was enough for us to ramble leisurely 
through the old courts and squares and alleys, where the shadows 
lay cool under the gloomy walls, or under avenues of magnificent 
elms. 

But first of all we paid a more formal visit to Christ Church, 
and on our way thither the lieutenant stopped Bell at the post- 
office. She begged leave to ask for letters herself ; and presently 
reappeared with two in her hand. 

“ These are from the boys,” she said to my lady : “ there is one 
for you, and one for papa.” 

“You have had no letter?” said Tita. 


ATRA CURA. 


87 


“ No,” answered Bell, somewhat gravely, as I fancied ; and for 
some time after she seemed rather thoughtful and anxious. 

As we paused underneath the archway in front of the sunlit 
quadrangle of Christ Church, the letters from the boys were read 
aloud. This is the first one, which shows the pains a boy will 
take to write properly to his mother, especially when he can lay 
his hands on some convenient guide-book to correspondence : 

“ Cowley House, Twickenham. 

“ My dear Mamma, — I take up my pen to let you know that 
I am quite well, and hope that this will find you in the engoy- 
ment of good health. My studdies are advancing favably, and I 
hope I shall continue to please my teacher and my dear parents, 
who have been so kind to me, and are anxious for my wellfare. 
I look forward with much delight to the aproarching hollidays, 
and I am, my dear mamma, your affectionate son, 

“Jack. 

“ P.S. — He does gallop so ; and he eats beans.” 

Master Tom, on the other hand, showed that the fear of his 
mother was not on him when he sat down to write. Both of 
them had evidently just been impressed with the pony’s gallop- 
ing ; for the second letter was as follows : 

“ Cowley House, Twickenham. 

“ My dear Papa, — He does gallop so, you can’t think [this 
phrase, as improper, was hastily scored through] and I took him 
down to the river and the boys were very Impertinent and I rode 
him down to the river and they had to run away from their 
clothes and he went into the river a good bit and was not afraid 
but you know he cannot swim yet as he is very young Harry 
French says and Doctor Ashburton went with us yesterday my 
dear papa to the ferry and Dick was taken over in the ferry and 
we all went threw the trees by Ham House and up to Ham Com- 
mon and back by Richmond bridge and Dick was not a bit 
Tired. But what do you think my dear papa Doctor Ashburton 
says all our own money won’t pay for his hay and corn and he 
will starve if you do not send some please my dear papa to send 
some at once because if he starvves once he will not get right 
again and the Ostler says he is very greedy but he his a very 


88 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


good pony and very intelgent dear papa Doctor Ashburton has 
bawt us each a riding -whip but I never hit him over the ears 
which the Ostler says is dangerus and you must tell the German 
gentleman that Jack and I are very much obled [scored out] 
obledg [also scored out] obbliged to him, and send our love to 
him and to dear Auntie Bell and to dear Mamma and I am my 
dear papa your affexnate son. Tom.” 

“ It is really disgraceful,” said the mother of the scamps, “ the 
shocking way those boys spell. Really Dr. Ashburton must be 
written to. At their age, and with such letters as these — it is 
shameful.” 

“ I think they are very clever boys,” said Bell, “ and I hope 
you won’t impose extra lessons on them just as they have got a 
pony.” 

“ They ought not to have had the pony until they had given a 
better account of themselves at school,” said my lady, severely ; 
to which Bell only replied by saying, in a pensive manner, that 
she wished she was a boy of nine years of age, just become pos- 
sessed of a pony, and living in the country. 

We spent a long time in Christ Church, more especially in the 
magnificent Hall, where the historical portraits greatly interested 
Bell. She entered into surmises as to the sensations which must 
have been felt by the poets and courtiers of Queen Elizabeth’s 
time when they had to pay compliments to the thin-faced, red- 
haired woman who is here represented in her royal satins and 
pearls ; and wondered whether, after they had celebrated her as 
the Queen of Beauty, they afterward reconciled these flatteries to 
their conscience by looking on them as sarcasm. But whereas 
Bell’s criticism of the picture was quite gentle and unprejudiced, 
there was a good deal more of acerbity in the tone in which 
Queen Tita drew near to speak of Holbein’s Henry VHI. My 
firm belief is, that the mother of those two boys at Twickenham, 
if she only had the courage of her opinions — and dared to reveal 
those secret sentiments which now find expression in decorating 
our bedrooms with missal-like texts, and in the use of ritualistic 
phrases to describe ordinary portions of the service and ordinary 
days of the year — would really be discovered to be — But let 
that pass. What harm Henry VIH. had done her, I could not 
make out. Any one may perceive that that monarch has not the 


ATRA CURA. 


89 


look of an ascetic ; that the contour of his face and the setting of 
his eyes are not particularly pleasing; that he could not easily 
be mistaken for Ignatius Loyola. But why any woman of these 
present days, who subscribes to Mudie’s, watches the costumes of 
the Princess of Wales, and thinks that Dr. Pusey has been un- 
generously treated, should regard a portrait of Henry VIII. as 
though he had done her an injury only the week before last, it 
is not easy to discover. Bell, on the other hand, was discoursing 
to the lieutenant about the various workmanship of the pictures, 
and giving him a vast amount of information about technical 
matters, in which he appeared to take a deep interest. 

“ But did you ever paint upon panel yourself, mademoiselle ?” 
he asked. 

“ Oh yes,” said Bell, “ I was at one time very fond of it. But 
I never made it so useful as a countryman of mine once sug- 
gested it might be. He was a Cumberland farmer who had come 
down to our house at Ambleside ; and when he saw me painting 
on a piece of wood, he looked at it with great curiosity. 

“ ‘ Heh, lass,’ he said, ‘ thou’s pentin a fine pictur there, and on 
wood, too. Is’t for the yell-house V 

“ ‘ No,’ I said, explaining that I was painting for my own 
pleasure, and that it was not a public-house sign. 

“ ‘ To please thysel, heh ? And when thou’s dune wi’ the pic- 
tur, thou canst plane it off the wood, and begin another — that’s 
thy meanin’, is’t ?’ 

“ I was very angry with him, for I was only about fifteen then, 
and I wanted to send my picture to a London exhibition.” 

“ Why, I did see it down at Leatherhead !” said Von Rosen. 
“ Was not that the picture, on panel, near the window of the din- 
ing-room ?” 

“ Come, come !” said Titania to the girl, who could not quite 
conceal the pleasure she felt on hearing that the count had no- 
ticed this juvenile effort of hers ; “ come along, and let us see the 
library before we go into the open air again.” 

In the library, too, were more portraits and pictures, in which 
these young people were much interested. We found it impos- 
sible to drag them along. They would loiter in some corner or 
other, and then, when we forsook our civil attendant and went 
back for them, we found them deeply engrossed in some obscure 
portrait, or buried in a huge parchment -bound folio which the 


90 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


lieutenant had taken out and opened. Bell was a fairly well-in- 
formed young woman, as times go, and knew quite as much of 
French literature as was good for her; but it certainly puzzled 
Tita and myself to discover what possible interest she could have 
in gazing upon the large pages of the “Encyclopaedia,” while 
the lieutenant talked to her about D’Alembert. Nor could it be 
possible that a young lady of her years and pursuits had imbibed 
80 much reverence for original editions as to stand entranced be- 
fore this or that well-known author whose earliest offspring had 
been laid hold of by her companion. They both seemed unwilling 
to leave this library ; but Von Rosen explained the matter when he 
came out — saying that he had never felt so keenly the proverbial 
impulses of an Uhlan as when he found himself with these valuable 
old books in his hand and only one attendant near. I congratu- 
lated the authorities of Christ Church on what they had escaped. 

Of course we went down to the river some little time after 
lunch ; and had a look from Folly Bridge on the various oddly 
assorted crews that had invaded the sacred waters of the Isis in 
the absence of the University men. When the lieutenant pro- 
posed that we, too, should get a boat and make a voyage down 
between the green meadows, it almost seemed as if we were vent- 
uring into a man’s house in the absence of the owner ; but then 
Bell very prettily and urgently added her supplications, and Tita 
professed herself not unwilling to give the young folks an airing 
on the stream. There were plenty of signs that it was vacation- 
time besides the appearance of the nondescript oarsmen. There 
was a great show of painting and scraping and gilding visible 
among that long line of mighty barges that lay under the shadow 
of the elms, moored to tall white poles that sent a line of silver 
down into the glassy and troubled water beneath. Barges in 
blue, and barges in cream and gold, barges with splendid prows 
and Gorgon figure-heads, barges with steam - paddles and light 
awnings over the upper deck, barges with that deck supported by 
pointed arches, as if a bit of an old cloister had been carried 
down to decorate a pleasure - boat — all these resounded to the 
blows of hammers, and were being made bright with many col- 
ors. The University barge itself had been dragged out of the 
water, and was also undergoing the same process ; although the 
cynical person who had put the cushions in our boat had just re- 
marked, with something of a shrug, 


ATRA CURA. 


91 


“ I hope that the mahn as has got the job ’ll get paid for it, for the 
’Varsity crew are up to their necks in debt, that’s what they are!” 

When once we had got away from Christ Church meadows, 
there were fewer obstructions in our course ; but whether it was 
that the currents of the river defied the skill of our coxswain, or 
whether it was that the lieutenant and Bell, sitting together in 
the stern, were too much occupied in pointing out to each other 
the beauties of the scenery, we found ourselves with a fatal fre- 
quency running into the bank, with the prow of the boat hissing 
through the rushes and fiags. Nevertheless, we managed to get 
up to Iffiey, and there, having moored the boat, we proceeded to 
land and walk up to the old church on the brow of the hill. 

“It’s what they calls eerly English,” said the old lady who 
showed us over the ancient building. She was not a talkative 
person ; she was accustomed to get over the necessary information 
rapidly ; and then spent the interval in looking strangely at the 
tall lieutenant and his brown beard. She did not betray any 
emotion when a small gratuity was given her. She had not even 
said “Thank you” when Von Rosen, on calling for the keys of 
the church, had found the gate of her garden unhinged, and had 
labored fully ten minutes in hammering a rusty piece of iron into 
the wooden post. Perhaps she thought it was Bell who had 
driven down the gate ; but at all events she expressed no sense of 
gratitude for its restoration. 

Near an old yew-tree there was a small grave — new-made and 
green with grass — on which some careful hand had placed a cross 
composed exclusively of red and white roses. This new grave, 
with these fresh evidences of love and kindly remembrance on it, 
looked strange in the rude old church-yard, where stones of un- 
known age and obliterated names lay tumbled about or stood 
awry among the weeds and grass. Yet this very disorder and de- 
cay, as Tita said gently, seemed to her so much more pleasant 
than the cold and sharp precision of the iron crosses in French 
and German graveyards, with their grim, fantastic decorations and 
wreaths of immortelles. She stood looking at this new grave 
and its pretty cross of roses, and at the green and weather-worn 
stones, and at the black old yew-tree, for some little time ; until 
Bell — who knows of something that happened when Tita was but 
a girl, and her brother scarcely more than a child — drew her gen- 
tly away from us, towards the gate of the church-yard. 


92 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“Yes,” said the lieutenant, not noticing, but turning to the 
only listener remaining; “that is true. I think your English 
church-yards in the country are very beautiful — very picturesque, 
very pathetic indeed. But what you have not in this country 
are the beautiful songs about death that we have — not religious 
hymns, or anything like that — but small, little poems that the 
country-people know and repeat to their children. Do you know 
that one that says, 

“ ‘ Hier schlummert das Herz, 

Befreit von betaubenden Sorgen ; 

Es weckt uns kein Morgen 
Zu grosserem Schmerz.’ 

And it ends this way : 

‘“Was weinest denn du ? 

Ich trage nun muthig mein Leiden, 

Und rufe mit Freuden, 

Im Grabe ist Rub’ ?’ 

There was one of my comrades in the war — he was from my na- 
tive place, but not in my regiment — he was a very good fellow 
— and when he was in the camp before Metz, his companion was 
killed. Well, he buried him separate from the others, and went 
about till he got somewhere a gravestone, and he began to cut out, 
just with the end of a bayonet, these two verses on the stone. It 
took him many weeks to do that ; and I did hear from one of my 
friends in the regiment that two days after he had put up the 
stone he was himself killed. Oh, it is very hard to have your 
companion killed beside you, and he is away from his friends, and 
when you go back home without him — they look at you as if you 
had no right to be alive and their son dead. That is very hard 
— I knew it in sixty-six, when I went back to Berlin, and had to 
go to see old Madame Von Hebei. I do hope never to have that 
again.” 

Is there a prettier bit of quiet river scenery in the world than 
that around Iffley Mill ? Or was it merely the glamour of the 
white day that rendered the place so lovely, and made us linger 
in the open stream to look at the mill and its surroundings ? As 
I write, there lies before me a pencil sketch of our Bell’s, lightly 
dashed here and there with water-color, and the whole scene is re- 
called. There is the dilapidated old stone building, with its red 
tiles, its crumbling plaster, its wooden projections, and small win- 


ATRA CURA. 


93 


dows, half hidden amidst foliage. Farther down the river there 
are clumps of rounded elms visible; but here around the mill 
the trees are chiefly poplars, of magniflcent height, that stretch up 
lightly and gracefully into a quiet yellow sky, and throw gigantic 
lines of reflection down into the still water. Then out from the 
mill a small island runs into the stream ; the wood-work of the 
sluice-gates bridges the interval ; there is a red cow amidst the 
green leafage of the island; and here again are some splendid 
poplars rising singly up from the river-side. Then beyond is an- 
other house, then a wooden bridge, and a low line of trees ; and 
finally the river, in a sharp curve, glimmers in the light and loses 
itself behind low-lying meadows and a marginal growth of willow 
and flag. 

For very shame’s sake, the big lieutenant was forced to offer to 
take Tita’s oar, as we once more proceeded on our voyage ; but 
she definitely refused to endanger our lives by any such experi- 
ment. A similar offer on the part of Bell met with a similar fate. 
Indeed, when this little woman has once made up her mind to do 
a certain thing, the reserve of physical and intellectual vigor that 
lies within the slight frame and behind a smooth and gentle face 
shows itself to be extraordinary. Place before her some arith- 
metical conundrum that she must solve in order to question the 
boys, or give her an oar and engage her to pull for a certain 
number of miles, and the amount of patient perseverance and un- 
obtrusive energy she will reveal will astonish most people. In the 
mean time, her task was easy. We were going with the stream. 
And so we glided on between the green banks, under the railway- 
bridge, past the village of Kennington, past Rose Isle, with its 
bowers, and tables, and beer-glasses, and lounging young fellows 
in white trousers and blue jackets, and so on until we got up to 
Sandford Lock. Here also we fastened the boat to the bank, 
close by the mill, and went ashore for half an hour’s stroll. But 
while Tita made direct, as she generally does on entering a new 
village, for the church, the lieutenant went off in quest of beer ; 
and when we came back to the boat, he had a wonderful story 
to tell us. He had made friends with some innkeeper or other, 
and had imbibed from him a legend which was a curious mixture 
of fact and inference and blunder. Von Rosen had doubtless 
mistaken much of the Oxfordshire patois; for how could any 
man make a reasonable narrative out of the following ? 


94 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“And he told me it was a farmer’s house in the village — the 
village of Sandford, I suppose — and while they took it down to 
repair it, they were lifting up the floors, and many strange things 
were there. And he said, among the nonsense and useless rub- 
bish they were flnding there, was a hat; and the man brought 
the hat down to him ; and he saw it was a chevalier’s hat — ” 

“ A cavalier’s hat,” suggested Bell ; and the lieutenant assented. 

“Then the farmer went up to the house, and he found some 
hidden letters, and one was to Ettrick — to some soldier who was 
then on a campaign at the river Ettrick in the North. And they 
found that it was in this very house that King Charles the First 
did cut off his beard and mustache — I suppose when he was flying 
from the Parliamentary army ; but I am forgetting all about that 
history now, and the innkeeper was not sure about the battle. 
Well, then, the news was sent to London ; and a gentleman came 
down who is the only surviving descender — descendant — of King 
Charles, and he took away the hat to London, and you will And 
it in the British Museum. It is a very curious story, and I would 
have come after you, and showed you the house ; but I suppose 
it is a new house now, and nothing to look at. But do you know 
when the king was in this neighborhood in escaping ?” 

Here was a poser for the women. 

“ I don’t remember,” says Tita, looking very profound, “ to 
have seen anything about Oxford in Lord Clarendon’s narrative 
of the king’s escape after the battle of Worcester.” 

“Mamma!” said Bell, in accents of reproach, “that was Charles 
the Second.” 

“To be sure it was,” returned Tita, with a gesture of impa- 
tience ; “ and he couldn’t have come this way, for he went to Bris- 
tol. But Charles the First was continually at Oxford — he sum- 
moned the Parliament to meet him here — ” 

“ And shaved off his beard to curry favor with them,” it is sug' 
gested. 

“ You needn’t laugh. Of course, when he was Anally defeated, 
he fled from Oxford, and very probably disguised himself.” 

“ And when did he fly, and whither ?” 

“ To Scotland,” said Bell, triumphantly, “ and after the battle 
of Naseby.” 

“Good girl. And where is Naseby?” 

“ Well, if he fled north-east from the Parliamentary army, Nase- 


ATRA CURA. 


95 


by must be in the south-west ; and so I suppose it is somewhere 
down about Gloucester.” 

“ Herr Professor Oswald, where is Naseby ?” 

“ I do not know,” says the lieutenant ; “ but I think it is more 
in the North, and not far from the country of your great man 
Hampden. But he was killed before then, I think.” 

“And pray,” says Queen Tita, taking her seat, and putting her 
oar into the rowlock, “ will you please tell me what you think of 
those men — of Cromwell and Hampden and those — and what 
your historians say of them in Germany ?” 

“ Why, they say all kinds of things about them,” said the lieu- 
tenant, lightly — not knowing that he was being questioned as a 
representative of the feudal aristocracy of a country in which the 
divine right of kings is supposed to flourish — “ just as your his- 
torians do here. But we know very well that England has got 
much of her liberty through that fight with the king, and yet you 
have been able to keep a balance, and not let the lowest classes 
run riot and destroy your freedom. They were ambitious ? Yes. 
If a man is in politics, does not he fight hard to make his side 
wdn ? If he is a soldier, does not he like to be victorious ? And 
if I could be King of England, do you not think I should like 
that very well, and try hard for it ? But if these men had their 
own ambitions, and wanted to get fame and honor, I am sure they 
had much of righteousness and belief, and would not have fought 
in that way and overturned the king if they believed that was an 
injury to their country or to their religion. And, besides, what 
could this man or that man have done except he had a great en- 
thusiasm of the nation behind him — if he did not represent a prin- 
ciple ? But I have no right to speak of such things as if I were 
telling you of our German historians. That is only my guess, 
and I have read not much about it. But you must not suppose 
that because we in Germany have not the same political system 
that you have, that we cannot tell the value of yours, and the good 
it has done to the character of your people. Our German histo- 
rians are many of them professors in universities, and they spend 
their lives in finding out the truth of such things ; and do you 
think they care what may be the opinion of their own Govern- 
ment about it ? Oh no. They are very independent in the uni- 
versities — much too independent, I think. It is very pleasant, 
when you are a very young man, to get into a university, and 


96 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

think yourself very wise, and go to extremes about politics, and 
say hard things of your own country ; but when you come out 
into the world, and see how you have to keep your country from 
enemies that are not separated by the sea from you (as you are 
here in England), you see how had are these principles among 
young men, who do not like to be obedient, and always want to 
hurry on new systems of government before such things are pos- 
sible. But you do not see much of those wild opinions when a 
war comes, and the young men are marched together to save their 
country. Then they forget all the democratic notions of this kind 
— it is their heart that speaks, and it is on fire — and not one is 
ashamed to be patriotic, though he may have laughed at it a week 
before.” 

“ It must be very hard,” said Bell, looking away at the river, 
“ to leave your home and go into a foreign country, and know 
that you may never return.” 

“ Oh no, not much,” said the lieutenant ; “ for all your friends 
go with you. And you are not always in danger — you have much 
entertainment at times, especially when some fight is over, and all 
your friends meet again to have a supper in the tent, and some 
one has got a bottle of cognac, and some one else has got a letter 
from home, full of gossip about people you know very well. And 
there is much fun, too, in riding over the country, and trying to 
find food and quarters for yourself and your horse. We had 
many good parties in the deserted farm-houses, and sometimes we 
caught a hen or a duck that the people had neglected to take, and 
then we kindled a big fire, and killed him, and fixed him on a 
lance and roasted him well, feathers and all. Then we were very 
lucky — to have a fire, and good meat, and a roof to keep off the 
rain. But it was more dangerous in a house — for it was difficult 
to keep from sleeping after you had got warm, and had eaten and 
drunk perhaps a little too much wine — and there were many peo- 
ple about ready to fire at you. But these are not heroic stories 
of a campaign, are they, mademoiselle ?” 

Nevertheless, mademoiselle seemed sufficiently interested ; and 
as Tita and I pulled evenly back to Iffley and Oxford she contin- 
ually brought the lieutenant back to this subject by a series of 
questions. This modern maiden was as anxious to hear of the 
amusements of patrols, and the hair-breadth escapes of dare-devil 
sublieutenants, as was Desdemona to listen to her lover’s stories 


ATRA CURA. 


97 


of battles, sieges, fortunes, and moving accidents by flood and 
fleld. 

That was a pleasant pull back to Oxford, in the quiet of the 
summer afternoon, with the yellow light lying warmly over the 
level meadows and the woods. There were more people now 
along the banks of the river — come out for the most part in 
couples to wander along the pathway between the stream and the 
fields. Many of them had a good look at our bonny Bell ; and 
the Radley boys, as they sent their long boats spinning down the 
river towards Sandford, were apparently much struck. Bell, un- 
conscious of the innocent admiration of those poor boys, was at- 
tending much more to the talk of our Uhlan than to her tiller- 
ropes. As for him — but what man would not have looked con- 
tented under these conditions — to be strong, healthy, handsome, 
and only twenty-five ; to have comfortable means and an assured 
future ; to have come out of a long and dangerous campaign with 
honor and sound limbs ; to be off on a careless holiday through 
the most beautiful country, take it for all in all, in the world ; 
and to be lying lazily in a boat on a summer’s evening, on a pret- 
ty English river, with a pretty English girl showing her friendly 
interest and attention in every glance of her blue eyes ? 

You should have seen how naturally these two fell behind us, 
and formed a couple by themselves, when we had left the boat 
and were returning to our inn. But as we walked up to Carfax, 
Bell separated herself from us for a moment, and went into the 
post-office. She was a considerable time there. When she came 
out, she was folding up a letter which she had been reading. 

“ You have got your letter at last,” said Tita. 

“ Yes,” said Bell, gravely, but showing no particular gladness 
or disappointment. 

At dinner she was rather reserved ; and so, curiously enough, 
was the lieutenant. After dinner, when we were allowed half an 
hour by ourselves for a cigar, he suddenly said, 

“ Why do you not interfere with that stupid young fellow ?” 

“ Who ?” I asked, in blank amazement. 

“ Why, that young fellow at Twickenham ; it is quite mon- 
strous, his impertinence. If I were the guardian of such a girl, 
I would kick him ; I would throw him into the river, and cool 
him there.” 

“ What in all the world do you mean ?” 

7 


98 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Why, you must know. The letter that Miss Bell did ask for 
more than once, it is from him ; and now when it comes, it is 
angry, it is impertinent — she is nearly crying all the time at din- 
ner. SacJcerment ! It is for some one to interfere, and save her 
from this insult — this persecution — ” 

“Don’t bite your cigar to pieces, but tell me, if you please, 
how you happen to know what was in the letter.” 

“ She told me,” said the lieutenant, sullenly. 

“When?” 

“Just before you came down to dinner. It is no business of 
mine — no ; but when I see her vexed and disturbed, I asked her 
to tell me why ; and then she said she had got this letter, which 
was a very cruel one to send. Oh, there is no mystery — none. 
I suppose he has a right to marry her — very well ; but he is not 
married yet, and he must not be allowed to do this.” 

“ Bell at least might have told me of it, or have confided in 
Tita— ” 

“ Oh, she is telling her now, I dare say. And she will tell you 
too, when there are not all of us present. It is no secret, or she 
would not have told me. Indeed, I think she was very sorry about 
that ; but she was very much vexed, and I asked her so plain that 
she answered me. And that is much better to have confidence 
between people, instead of keeping all such vexations to yourself. 
Then I ask her why he is angry, and she says only because she 
has gone away. Pfui ! I have never heard such nonsense !” 

“ My dear Oswald,” I say to him, “ don’t you interfere between 
two young people who have fallen out, or you will suffer. Un- 
less, indeed — ” 

“ Unless what ?” 

“ Unless they happen to be angels.” 

“ Do you know this — that he is coming to see her ?” 

“Well, the phaeton can hold five at a pinch. Why should 
not we have an addition to our party ?” 

“ Very good. I do not care. But if he is rude to her, he 
will not be very long in the phaeton.” 

“Why, you stupid boy, you take these lovers’ quarrels au 
grand shieux. Do you think he has been positively rude to 
her? Nothing of the kind. He has been too well brought up 
for that, although he has a peevish temper. He might be with 
us all through the journey — ” 


ATRA CURA. 


99 


'"'‘Jott hewahre exclaimed the count, with a kick at a cork 
that was lying on the carpet. 

“ — And these two might be at daggers drawn, and you would 
see nothing of it. Indeed, young people never get extremely 
courteous to each other until they quarrel and stand on their dig- 
nity. Now, if you had seen that letter, you would have found it 
respectful and formal in the highest degree — perhaps a trifle sar- 
castic here and there, for the lad unhappily thinks he has a gift 
that way — but you would And no rhetorical indignation or in- 
vective.” 

The count threw his cigar into the grate. 

“ They will be waiting for us,” he said ; “ let us go.” 

We found Tita with the bezique-cards spread out before her. 
Bell looked up with rather a frightened air, apparently conscious 
that the lieutenant was likely to have spoken about what she had 
conflded to him at the impulse of a momentary vexation. How- 
ever, we sat down. 

The game was an open and palpable burlesque. Was Ferdi- 
nand very intent on giving checkmate when he played chess with 
Miranda in the cave ; or was he not much more bent upon pla- 
cing his king in extreme danger and offering his queen so that 
she had to be taken ? The audacious manner in which this young 
lieutenant played his cards so as to suit Bell was apparent to ev- 
eiy one, though no one dared speak of it, and Bell only blushed 
sometimes. When she timidly put forth a ten, he was sure to 
throw away another ten, although he had any amount of aces 
in his hand. He spoiled his best combinations rather than take 
tricks when it was clear she wanted to lead. Nay, as he sat next 
to her, he undertook the duty of marking her various scores ; and 
the manner in which the small brass hand went circling round 
the card was singular, until Tita suddenly exclaimed, 

“ Why, that is only a common marriage !” 

“And do you not count forty for a common marriage?” he 
said, with a fine assumption of innocent wonder. 

Such was the ending of our first day’s rest; and then, just 
before candles were lighted, a cabinet council was held to decide 
whether, on the morrow, we should choose as our halting-place 
Moreton-in-the-Marsh or Bourton-on-the-Hill. The more elevated 
site won the day. 


LofC. 


100 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN. 

“ In olde dayes of the king Arthour, 

Of which that Britons speake great honour, 

All was this land full filled of faerie ; 

The Elf-queen, with her jolly company, 

Danced full oft in many a green mead. 

This was the old opinion, as I read ; 

I speak of many a hundred years ago ; 

But now can no man see no elves mo’.” 

The phaeton stood in the High Street of Oxford. Castor and 
Pollux, a trifle impatient after the indolence of the day before, 
were pawing the hard stones, their silken coats shining in the 
morning sunlight ; Queen Titania had the reins in her hands ; the 
tall waiter, who had been a circus-rider, was ready to smile us an 
adieu ; and we were all waiting for the lieutenant, who had gone 
off in search of a map that Bell had forgotten. 

If there is one thing more than another likely to ruffle the 
superhuman sweetness of my lady’s temper, it is to be kept wait- 
ing in a public thoroughfare with a pair of rather restive horses 
under her charge. I began to fear for that young man. Tita 
turned once or twice to the entrance of the hotel ; and at last 
she said, with an ominous politeness in her tone, 

“It does seem to me singular that Count Von Rosen should 
be expected to look after such things. He is our guest. It is no 
compliment to give him the duty of attending to our luggage.” 

“ My dear,” said Bell, leaning over, and speaking in very peni- 
tent tones, “ it is entirely my fault. I am very sorry.” 

“ I think he is much too good-natured,” says Tita, coldly. 

At this Bell rather recedes, and says, with almost equal cold- 
ness, 

“ I am sorry to have given him so much trouble. In future I 
shall try to do without his help.” 

But when the count did appear — when he took his seat beside 
Tita, and we rattled up the High Street and round by the Corn 
Market, and past Magdalen Church, and so out by St. Giles’s 


NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN. 


101 


Road, the remembrance of this little preliminary skirmish speedi- 
ly passed away. For once more we seemed to have left towns 
and streets behind us, and even while there were yet small villas 
and gardens by the side of the road, the air that blew about on 
this bright morning seemed to have a new sweetness in it, and 
the freshness and pleasant odors of innumerable woods and fields. 
There was quite a bright light, too, in Bell’s face. She had come 
down-stairs with an obvious determination to cast aside the re- 
membrance of that letter. There was something even defiant in 
the manner in which she said — in strict confidence, be it observed 
— that if Arthur Ashburton did intend to come and meet us in 
some town or other, there was no use in being vexed about it in 
the mean time. We were now getting into the open country, 
where pursuit would be in vain. If he overtook us, it would be 
through the mechanism of railways. His only chance of obtain- 
ing an interview with Bell was to lie in wait for us in one of the 
big towns through which we must pass. 

“ But why,” said the person to whom Bell revealed these mat- 
ters, “why should you be afraid to meet Arthur? You have not 
quarrelled with him.” 

“ No,” said Bell, looking down. 

“You have done nothing that he can object to.” 

“ He has no right to object, whatever I may do,” she said, with 
a gentle firmness. “ But, you know, he is annoyed, and you can- 
not reason with him ; and I am sorry for him — and — and — and 
what is the name of this little village on the left ?” 

Bell seemed to shake off this subject from her, as too vexatious 
on such a fine and cheerful morning. 

“ That is Wollvercot ; and there is the road that leads down to 
Godstow and the ruins of Godstow Nunnery, in which Rosamond 
Clifford lived and died.” 

“And I suppose she rode along this very highway,” said Bell, 
“ with people wondering at her beauty and her jewels, w'hen she 
used to live at Woodstock. Yet it is a very ordinary - looking 
road.” 

Then she touched Tita on the shoulder. 

“ Are we going to stop at Blenheim ?” she asked. 

“ I suppose so,” said our driver. 

“ I think we ought not,” said Bell ; “ we shall be greatly dis- 
appointed, if we do. For who cares about the Duke of Marlbor- 


102 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


ough, or Sir John Vanbrugh’s architecture? You know you will 
be looking about the trees for the old knight with the white 
beard, and for Alice Lee, and for pretty Phoebe Mayflower, and 
for Wildrake and the soldiers. Wouldn’t it be better to go past 
the walls, Tita, and fancy that all these old friends of ours are 
still walking about inside in their picturesque costume? If we 
go inside, we shall only find an empty park and a big house, and 
all those people gone away, just like the fairies who used to be in 
the woods.” 

“But what are the people you are speaking of?” said the 
count. “ Is it from history, or from a romance ?” 

“ I am not quite sure,” said Bell, “ how much is history, and 
how much is romance ; but I am sure we know the people very 
well ; and very strange things happened inside the park that we 
shall pass by-and-by. There was a pretty young lady living there, 
and a very sober and staid colonel was her lover. The brother 
of this young lady was much attached to the fortunes of the 
Stewarts, and he brought the young Prince Charles in disguise to 
the house ; and all the gratitude shown by the prince was that he 
began to amuse himself by making love to the sister of the man 
who had risked his life to save him. And of course the grave 
colonel discovered it, and he even drew his sword upon Prince 
Charles—” 

“ I beg your pardon, mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant, “ but 
do not trouble to tell me the story ; for I know it very well. I 
did read it in Germany years ago ; and I think if Colonel Esmond 
had thrashed the prince — ” 

“ Oh no, you are mistaken,” said Bell, with some wonder ; “ it 
is Colonel Markham, not Colonel Esmond; and the brother of 
the young lady succeeded in getting the prince away just before 
Cromwell had time to seize him.” 

“ Cromwell !” said our lieutenant, thoughtfully. “ Ah, then it 
is another story. But I agree with you, mademoiselle : if you 
believe in these people very much, do not go into the park, or 
you will be disappointed.” 

“ As you please,” said Tita, with a smile. I began to observe 
that when the two young folks agreed about anything, my lady 
became nothing more than an echo to their wishes. 

At length we came to the walls that surrounded the great park. 
Should we leave all its mysteries unexplored? If one were to 


NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN. 


103 


clamber up, and peep over, might not strange figures be seen, in 
buff coats and red, with bandoleers and helmets ; and an aged 
knight with a laced cloak, slashed boots, and long sword ; coun- 
trywomen in white hoods and black gowns; divines with tall 
Presbyterian hats and solemn visage; a braggart and drunken 
soldier of the king ; and a colonel the servant of Cromwell ? Or 
might not Queen Elizabeth be descried, looking out as a prisoner 
on the fair domains around her? Or might not Chaucer be found 
loitering under those great trees that he loved and celebrated in 
his verse ? Or behind that splendid wall of chestnuts and elms, 
was it not possible that Fair Rosamond herself might be walking 
all alone, passing like a gleam of light through the green shadows 
of the trees, or sitting by the well that still bears her name, or 
reading in the heart of that bower that was surrounded by cun- 
ning ways? Was it along this road that Eleanor came? Or did 
Rosamond, surviving all her sin and her splendor, sometimes 
walk this way with her sister-nuns from Godstow, and think of 
the time when she was mistress of a royal palace and this spa- 
cious park ? 

We drove into the town of Woodstock. The handful of 
houses thrown into the circular hollow that is cut in two by the 
river Glym was as silent as death. In the broad street that 
plunged down into the valley, scarcely a soul was to be seen ; and 
even about the old town-hall there were only some children visi- 
ble. Had the play been played out, and the actors gone forever ? 
When King Henry was fighting in France or in Ireland, doubtless 
Rosamond, left all by herself, ventured out from the park, and 
walked down into the small town, and revealed to the simple 
folks the wonders of her face, and talked to them. No mortal 
woman could have remained in a bower month after month with- 
out seeing any one but her attendants. Doubtless, too, the peo- 
ple in this quaint little town were very loyal towards her, and 
would have espoused her cause against a dozen Eleanors. And so 
it happened, possibly, that when the romance came to an end, and 
Rosamond went to hide her shame and her penitence in the nun- 
nery of Godstow, all the light and color went out of Woodstock, 
and left it dull, and gray, and silent as it is to this day. 

The main street of Woodstock, that dips down to the banks of 
the Glym, rises as abruptly on the other side ; and once past the 
turnpike, the highway runs along an elevated ridge, which on the 


104 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


one side is bounded by a continuation of Blenheim Park, and, 
on the other, slopes down to a broad extent of level meadows. 
When we had got up to this higher ground, and found before us 
an illimitable stretch of country, with ourselves as the only visi- 
ble inhabitants, the lieutenant managed to introduce a remote hint 
about a song which he had heard Bell humming in the morning. 

“ I think it was about Woodstock,” he said ; “ and if you will 
please to sing it now as we go along, I shall get out for you the 
guitar.” 

“ If you will be so kind,” said Bell, quite submissively. 

What had become of the girl’s independence ? Asked to sing 
a song at great trouble to herself — for who cares to play a guitar 
in the back-seat of a phaeton, and with two pairs of wheels rum- 
bling an accompaniment? — she meekly thanks him for suggest- 
ing it ! Nay, it was becoming evident that the girl was schooling 
herself into docility. She had almost dropped entirely the wild 
phrases and startling metaphors that so deeply shocked Tita. 
Sometimes they dropped out inadvertently ; and sometimes, too, 
she gave way to those impulsive imaginative flights that led her 
unthinkingly into an excitement of talk which Tita used to re- 
gard with a sort of amused wonder. But of late all these things 
were gradually disappearing. She was less abrupt, independent, 
wayward in her manner. She waited more patiently to receive 
suggestions from others. She was becoming a good listener; 
and she received meekly criticisms that would, but a short time 
before, have driven her into a proud and deflant silence, or pro- 
voked some rejoinder a good deal more apt than gentle. It was 
very odd to mark this amiable self-discipline struggling with her 
ordinary frank impetuosity ; although sometimes, it is true, the 
latter had the best of it. 

On this occasion, when the lieutenant had jumped down and 
got out the guitar for her, she took it very obediently ; and then 
Tita rested the horses for a little while under the shadow of some 
overhanging trees. Of course you know the ballad that Bell nat- 
urally turned to, seeing where she was at the moment, and the 
sort of music she was most familiar with. 

“Near Woodstock town I chanced to stray, 

When birds did sing and fields were gay, 

And by a glassy river’s side 
A weeping damsel I espied.” 


NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN. 


105 


This was what she sung, telling the story of the forlorn maiden 
who was found weeping for her faithless lover, who only wished 
that he might come and visit her grave, and think of her as “ one 
who loved, but could not hate.” Perhaps this old-fashioned bal- 
lad is not a masterly composition ; but the music of it is expres- 
sive enough; and we who were familiar with Bell’s ballads had 
got into a habit of not caring much what she sung, as long as she 
only continued singing. 

“ You would make your fortune by singing,” said Tita, as Bell 
finished, and the horses were sent forward. 

“ Perhaps,” said the girl, “ if all my audience were like you. 
But I think you must have been lent out as an infant to an old 
woman with an organ, and so, by merely sitting on the vibrating 
wood, you have become so sensitive to music that anything at all 
pleases you.” 

“ No, mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant, “ you do yourself an 
injustice. I never heard a voice like yours, that has the tremble 
of a zither in it, and is much softer than a zither.” 

Bell blushed deeply ; but, to conceal her embarrassment, she said 
lightly to Tita, 

“ And how am I to make my fortune ? Oh, I know — by com- 
ing in after public dinners, to sing grace, and follow the toasts 
with a glee. I am in white silk, with a blue ribbon round my 
neck, white gloves, bracelets, and a sheet of music. There is an 
elderly lady in black velvet and white pearls, who smiles in a 
pleasant manner — she sings, and is much admired by the long 
rows of gentlemen — they have just dined, you know, and are very 
nice and amiable. Then there is the tenor — fair and smooth, 
with diamond rings, a lofty expression, and a cool and critical 
eye, that shows he is quite accustomed to all this. Then there 
is the stout, red-bearded man who sings bass, and plays the pi- 
ano for the four of us, and is very fierce in the way he thumps 
out his enthusiasm about the queen, and the navy, and the army, 
and the volunteers. What a happy way of living that must be ! 
They will give us a nice dinner beforehand — in a room by our- 
selves, perhaps ; and all we have to do is to return thanks for it 
in an emotional way, so that all the waiters shall stand round in 
a reverential manner. But when that is over, then we introduce 
a few songs, sprightly, coquettish songs, and the gentlemen are 
vastly amused — and you think — ” 


106 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“Well, what do you think?” said I, seeing that Bell rather hes« 
itated. 

“ I think,” said Tita, with a smile, “ that you are very ungen- 
erous, Bell, in remembering so much of what you saw the other 
night from the gallery of The Freemasons’ Tavern. Is it fair to 
recall, in open daylight, in the cool forenoon, the imbecile good- 
nature and exuberant loyalty of a lot of gentlemen who have just 
dined? I wonder how many of the husbands there told their 
wives what sums they signed away under the influence of the 
wine ?” 

“ I dare say,” says one of the party, “ that the wives would be 
sorry to see so much money go in charity which might otherwise 
have been squandered in millinery and extravagances.” 

“ Don’t be ill-tempered, my dear,” says Queen Tita, graciously. 
“ Women are quite as charitable as men ; and they don’t need a 
guinea dinner to make them think of other people. That is a 
sort of charity that begins at home. Pray how much did you 
put down ?” 

“Nothing.” 

“I thought so. Go to a charity dinner, enjoy yourself, and 
come away without giving a farthing ! You would not find wom- 
en doing that.” 

“ Only because they have not the courage.” 

“ They have plenty of courage in other directions — in getting 
married, for example, when they know what men are.” 

“ Knowing that, is it not a pity they choose to make martyrs 
of themselves ? Indeed, their anxiety to become martyrs is aston- 
ishing. But what if I say that in the next published list of sub- 
scriptions you will find my name down for about as much as your 
last millinery bill came to ?” 

“ I think that a great deal more likely, for I know the state of 
philanthropy into which men get at a public dinner — fathers of 
families, who ought to remember their own responsibilities, and 
who are impatient enough if any extra bit of comfort or kindness 
is wanted for their own kith and kin.” 

“ Some such trifling matter as a fur cloak, for instance, that is 
bought out of a Brighton shop-window for sixty-five guineas, and 
is only worn twice or thrice, because some other woman has the 
neighbor of it.” 

“That is not true. You hnow the weather changed.” 


NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN. 


107 


^‘The weather! what weather? Were you at Brighton at the 
time?” 

Titania did not reply for a considerable time. Perhaps she 
was thinking of some crushing epigram ; but at all events Bell 
endeavored to draw her away from the subject by pointing out 
another river, and asking whether this or the Glym at Woodstock 
was the stream associated with the “ Oxfordshire Tragedy ” she 
had just been singing. We discovered, however, that this small 
stream was also the Glym, which here winds round and through 
the marshy country that Thomas Wharton described.^ Bell came 
to the conclusion that the banks by the river at this part were 
not sufficiently picturesque for the scene of the song, where the 
love-lorn heroine sits and weeps by a glassy stream, and complains 
that her lover is now wooing another maii 

Meanwhile, my lady had given expression to the rebellious 
thoughts passing through her mind by admonishing Castor and 
Pollux slightly ; and these, accordingly, were going forward at a 
rattling pace. We rushed through Enstone. We dashed along 
the level highway that lies on the high ground between the Charl- 
ford Farms and Heythrop Park. We sent the dust flying behind 
us in clouds as we scudded down to Chipping Norton ; and there, 
with a fine sweep, we cantered up the incline of the open square, 
clattered over the stones in front of The White Hart Inn, and 
pulled up with a noise that considerably astonished the quiet 
village. 

This large open space gives to Chipping Norton a light and 
agreeable appearance ; and on entering the big tall inn that looks 
down over the square, we found everything very cleanly, bright, 
and comfortable. The very maid - servant who served us with 
lunch was a model of maid-servants, and was a very handsome 
young woman besides, with shining light -blue eyes and yellow 

* “ Within some whispering osier isle, 

Where Glym’s low banks neglected smile ; 

And each trim meadow still retains 
The wintry torrent’s oozy stains ; 

Beneath a willow, long forsook. 

The fisher seeks his custom’d nook ; 

And bursting through the crackling sedge 
That crowns the current’s cavemed edge, 

He startles from the bordering wood 
The bashful wild-duck’s early brood.” 

Ode to the First of April. 


108 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

hair. The lieutenant at once entered into a polite conversation 
with her, and she informed him, in answer to his respectful in- 
quiries, that she had just come from Folkestone. 

“ From Folkestone ! that is a seaport — a busy place — a large 
town, is it not ?” 

“Yes, there was some business doing there,” said the maid, 
with an inflection of voice which rather cast discredit on Chip- 
ping Norton. 

“ Don’t you find this place dull ?” he asked. 

“ Well, I can’t say the people seem to worry themselves much,” 
she replied, with a slight curl of the lip. 

“That is very good for the health,” said the count, gravely. 
“ Now I do think you have a very nice and even temper, that 
does not irritate you — ” 

But here my lady and her companion came into the room, and 
the conversation ceased ; for the lieutenant had at once to spring 
up and take charge of the books, maps, and scarfs that Bell had 
brought in with her. And then, when we sat down to lunch, he 
was entirely engrossed in attending to her wants, insomuch that 
he was barely civil to the more elderly lady who had from the 
first been his champion. As for Bell, what had become of her 
dislike to officers, her antipathy to the German race, her horror of 
Uhlans. That very morning I had heard on good authority that 
Bell had been asking in confidence whether England did not owe 
a great debt to Germany for the gift of Protestantism which that 
country had sent us. “And were not the Prussians mostly Prot- 
estant ?” asked Bell. What answer was returned I do not know ; 
for Queen Titania is strong on the point that the word “ Protes- 
tant ” is not Scriptural. 

“But I have quite forgotten to tell you,” remarked the lieu- 
tenant, “ that this morning, when I was walking about in Oxford, 
I came into the theatre. I saw some bills up ; I went along a 
strange passage ; I found an iron gate, and much lime and stone, 
and things like that. A man came — I asked him if I could see 
the theatre, and he took me into the place, which they are repair- 
ing now. Oh, it is a very dingy place — small, tawdry, with ridic- 
ulous scenes, and the decorations of the galleries very amusing 
and dirty. Why, in an old city, with plenty of rich and intelli- 
gent people, you have such a pitiful little theatre ? — it is only fit 
for a country green and wandering actors. In a great university 


NEAR WOODSTOCK TOWN. 


109 


town, you should have the theatre supported by the colleges and 
the bequests, and hire good actors, and play all the best dramas 
of your great writers. That would be a good education — that 
would be a good compliment to pay to your great dramatists. 
But here, in a city where you have much learning, much money, 
much of your young men of good families being educated, you 
have only a dingy, small show, and I suppose it is farces they 
play, and wretched dramas, for the towns-people and the farmers. 
That is not much respect shown to your best authors by your 
learned institutions.” 

“No wonder students find the milliners’ shops more attrac- 
tive,” said Tita, with a smile. 

“ But I think there is always much interest in an empty thea- 
tre,” continued the lieutenant. “ I did go all over this poor little 
building, and saw how it imitated the deceptions of fine theatres 
in a coarse manner. I saw the rude scenes, the bad traps, the 
curious arrangements, which I do not think can differ much from 
the theatre which Shakspeare himself described, where a man was 
made to represent a city, if I am right.” 

“You are familiar with the arrangements of a theatre, I sup- 
pose ?” I say to the lieutenant. 

“ Pray tell me if you saw anything else in Oxford this morn- 
ing,” says Tita, hastily. 

“ I suppose you could produce a pantomime yourself,” I ob- 
serve to the young man. 

“Did you visit any more of the colleges?” said Tita, at the 
same moment. 

“ Or get up a ballet?” 

“ Or go down to the Isis again?” 

Von Rosen was rather bewildered ; but at last he stammered 
out, 

“ No, madame, I did not go down to the river this morning. I 
walked from the theatre to the hotel ; for I remained much too 
long in the theatre. Yes, I know something about the interior 
of theatres. I have been great friends with the managers and 
actors, and took great interest in it. I used to be much behind 
the stage — every night at some times; and that is very curious 
to a young man who likes to know more than other people, and 
thinks himself wise not to believe in delusions. I think it is 
Goethe who has made many of our young men like to know 


110 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


stage-managers, and help to arrange pieces. But I find that they 
always end by being very much in love with one of the young 
ladies, and then they get not to like the theatres, for they do not 
wish everybody to admire her and be allowed to look at her. 
This is very good for the theatre, however ; for they take many 
boxes, and ask their friends to accompany them, and that pays 
better than to let out the seats by the year to families. Some of 
the young men make light of this ; others are more melancholy, 
but afterward they have much interest in some theatres merely 
for the sake of the old associations.” 

“Oh, Bell,” exclaimed Tita, turning anxiously to our compan- 
ion, “ did you see that your guitar was properly put away, or has 
it been left lying open in the phaeton ?” 

“ I did put it away, madame,” said the lieutenant. 

“ Oh, thank you,” said Tita. “ I am sure if some of those 
hostlers were to have their curiosity aroused, we should have no 
more music all the journey.” 

And thus, having got the lieutenant away from rambling rem- 
iniscences of theatres, the little woman took very good care he 
should not return to them ; and so we finished luncheon without 
any catastrophe having happened. Bell had been sitting very 
quietly during these revelations, scarcely lifting her eyes from the 
table, and maintaining an appearance of studied indifference. 
Why should she care about the mention of any actress, or any 
dozen of actresses ? My lady’s anxiety was obviously unnecessary. 


CHAPTER IX. 

A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 

“ Till the live-long daylight fail ; 

Then to the spicy nut-brown ale, 

With stories told of many a feat, 

How faery Mab the junkets eat.” 

Chipping Norton is supplied with all the comforts of life. 
Before leaving for the more inhospitable regions in which we are 
to pass the night, we take a leisurely walk through the curious 
little town, that is loosely scattered over the side of a steep slope. 
Here civilization has crowded all its results together ; and Queen 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


Ill 


Tita is asked wkether ske could not forsake the busy haunts of 
men, and exchange that hovering between Leatherhead and Lon- 
don, which constitutes her existence, for a plain life in this small 
country town. 

“Chemists’ shops abound. There is a subscription reading- 
room. There are co-operative stores. A theatre invites you to 
amusement. You may have Lloyd's News^ various sorts of sew- 
ing-machines, and the finest sherry from the wood — ” 

“Along with a Wesleyan chapel,” she says, with a supercilious 
glance at the respectable if somewhat dull-looking little building 
that fronts the main street. 

There is no reply possible to this ungracious sneer; for who 
can reason, as one of us hints to her, with a woman who would 
spend a fortune in incense, if only she had it, and who would re- 
joice to run riot in tall candles ? 

Bell takes us away from Chipping Norton, the lieutenant sit- 
ting beside her to moderate the vehemence of her pace in the 
event of her getting into a difficulty. First the road dips down 
by a precipitous street, then it crosses a hollow, in which there 
are some buildings of a manufactory, a tiny river, and a strip of 
common or meadow, and then it ascends to the high country be- 
yond by a steep hill. On the summit of this hill we give the 
horses a rest for a few seconds, and turn to look at the small 
town that lies underneath us in the valley. There is a faint haze 
of blue smoke rising from the slates and tiles. The deadened 
tolling of a bell marks the conclusion of another day’s labor : for 
already the afternoon is wearing on apace ; and so we turn west- 
ward again, and set out upon the lofty highway that winds on- 
ward towards the setting sun. Small hamlets fringe the road 
at considerable intervals, while elsewhere our route lies between 
stretches of heath and long fields. And still the highway as- 
cends, until we reach the verge of a great slope ; and, behold ! 
there lies before us a great landscape, half in gloom, half in the 
dusky yellow light of the evening. And over there, partly shut- 
ting out the dark lines of hills in the west, a great veil of rain 
stretches from the sky to the earth, and through it the sun is 
shining as through ground glass. But so far away is this pale 
sheet of yellow mist, that we seem to be above it, and over the 
level and dark landscape on which it descends ; and, indeed, 
where this veil ends, the sunlight sends forth long shafts of radi- 


112 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


ance that light up level traets of the distant and wooded country. 
What fate is to befall us when we get down into this plain, and 
go forward in search of the unknown hostlery at which we are 
to pass the night ? 

“ I hope the rain will not spread,” says Bell, who had been 
telling us of all the wonders we should find at Bourton-on-the- 
Hill ; “ but even if it does rain to-night, we shall be as well off 
on a hill as in a swamp.” 

“ But at Moreton-in-the-Marsh,” says Tita, “ there is sure to be 
a comfortable inn, for it is a big place ; whereas Bourton-on-the 
Hill appears to be only a small village, and we may find there 
only a public-house.” 

“ But suppose it should clear ?” says Bell. “ The moon will be 
larger to-night, and then we can look down on all this level coun- 
try from the top of the hill. We have not had a night-walk for 
a long time, and it will be so much more pleasant than being 
down in the mists of a marsh.” 

“ And you are prepared to sleep on a couple of chairs in the 
smoking-room of a public-house ?” I ask of Miss Bell. 

“ I dare say we shall get accommodation of some kind,” she 
replies, meekly. 

“ Oh, I am quite sure mademoiselle is right ; there is so much 
more adventure in going to this small place on the top of a hill,” 
cried the lieutenant. 

Of course mademoiselle was right. Mademoiselle was always 
right now. And when that was understood. Queen Titania never 
even attempted to offer an objection, so that in all affairs per- 
taining to our trip the rude force of numbers triumphed over the 
protests of an oppressed and long-suffering minority. 

But only change the relative positions, and then what a differ- 
ence there was! When the lieutenant hinted in the remotest 
way that Bell might do so and so with the horses, she was all at- 
tention. For the first time in her career she allowed the inter- 
ests of justice to moderate her partiality for Pollux. That ani- 
mal, otherwise the best of horses, was a trifle older than his com- 
panion, and had profited by his years so far as to learn a little 
cunning. He had got into a trick, accordingly, of allowing Cas- 
tor — the latter being younger and a good deal “ freer ” — to take 
more than his share of the work. Pollux had acquired the art 
of looking as if he were perpetually straining at the collar, while 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


113 


all the time he was letting his neighbor exercise to the full that 
willingness which was his chief merit. Now Bell had never in- 
terfered to alter this unequal division of labor. Queen Tita knew 
well how to make the older horse do his fair share ; but Bell 
encouraged him in his idleness, and permitted his companion 
to work out of all reason. Now, however, when the lieutenant 
pointed out the different action of the horses, and said she 
should moderate the efforts of the one, while waking up the 
other to a sense of his duties, she was quite obedient. When 
the whip was used at all — which was seldom enough, for both 
horses were sufficiently free — it was Pollux that felt the silk. 
The lieutenant fancied he was giving Bell lessons in driving, 
whereas he was only teaching her submissiveness. 

That golden sheet of rain had disappeared in the west, and the 
yellow light had sunk farther and farther down behind far bands 
of dark cloud. A gray dusk was falling over the green land- 
scape, and the birds were growing mute in the woods and the 
hedges. In the pervading silence we heard only the patter of 
the horses’ feet and the light rolling of the phaeton, as we sped 
onward down the long slopes and along the plain. We passed 
Four-shire-Stone, the adjacent shires being Worcester, Warwick, 
Gloucester, and Oxford ; and then, getting on by a piece of com- 
mon, we rattled into a long and straggling village, with one or 
two large and open thoroughfares. 

Moreton-in-the-Marsh was asleep, and we left it asleep. There 
were still a few men lounging about the comer public-house, but 
the women and children had all retired into their cottages from 
the chill night-air. In some of the windows the light of a can- 
dle was visible. The dark elms behind the houses were growing 
darker. 

Between Moreton and Bourton you plunge still deeper into 
this great and damp valley, and the way lies through a rich veg- 
etation which seems to have thriven well in this low situation. 
The hedges along the road-side are magnificent ; the elms behind 
them constitute a magnificent avenue extending for nearly a 
couple of miles; all around are dense woods. As we drove rap- 
idly through this country, it almost seemed as though we could 
see the white mists around us, although the presence of the vapor 
was only known to us by the chilling touch of the air. On this 
July night we grew cold. Tita hoped there would be a fire at 


114 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

the hostlery on the top of the mountain, and she besought Bell 
to muffle up her throat, so that we should not he deprived of our 
ballads by the way. 

At last we beheld the hill before us. 

“ It is not very like the Niessen,” says Tita. 

“ But I have no doubt there is a very good inn at the top,” re- 
marks the lieutenant ; “ for after this hill the people would nat- 
urally stop to rest their horses.” 

“And we shall get up to see the sun rise, as we did on the 
Niessen?” asks Bell, with a fine innocence; for she knows the 
opinions of some of us on the subject of early rising. “ Do you 
remember the fat little woman who had walked up all by herself 
in the morning, and appealed to us all to tell her the names of 
the mountains, that she might write them down ?” 

“And how oddly she turned up again at nearly every railway- 
station we stopped at, with all her luggage around her !” says 
Tita. 

“ I believe,” says Bell, “ she is still sailing all through Europe 
on a shoal of bandboxes and portmanteaus. I wish I could draw 
the fat little woman balancing herself in that circle of luggage, 
you know, and floating about comfortably and placidly like a 
bottle bobbing about in the sea. She may have drifted up to St. 
Petersburg by this time.” 

“I think we have,” says the lieutenant, who is leading the 
horses up the steep hill, and who rubs his chilled hands from time 
to time. 

We reach the centre of the straggling line of houses which 
must be Bourton, and, behold ! there is no inn. In the dusk we 
can descry the tower of a small church, and here the cottages 
thicken into the position which ought to be dominated by an 
inn, but there is no sign of any such thing. Have we climbed 
this precipitous steep, and have Castor and Pollux laboriously 
dragged our phaeton and luggage up, all for nothing ? The count 
asks a startled villager, who points to a way-side house standing 
at the higher extremity of the row. Where is the familiar sign- 
board, or the glowing bar, or the entrance to the stables? Von 
Rosen surrenders his charge of the horses, and walks into the 
plain-looking house. It is an inn. We begin to perceive in the 
dusk that a small board over the door-way bears the name of 
“ Seth Dyde.” We find, however, instead of a landlord, a land- 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


115 


lady — a willing, anxious, energetic woman, who forthwith sets to 
work to take our party into this odd little place. For dinner or 
supper, just as we choose to call it, she will give us ham and eggs, 
with either tea or beer. She will get two bedrooms for us ; and 
perhaps the single gentleman will accept a shake-down in the par- 
lor. In that room a fire is lighted in a trice ; a lamp is brought 
in ; and presently the cheerful blaze in the huge fireplace illumi- 
nates the curious old-fashioned chamber, with its carpets, and red 
table-cloth, and gloomy furniture. A large tray appears, an or- 
namental teapot is produced. Sounds are heard of attendants 
whipping through the place — so anxious and so dexterous is this 
good woman. And Queen Tita, who is merciless in one respect, 
examines the cups, saucers, forks, and knives, and deigns to ex- 
press her sense of the creditable cleanliness and order of the soli- 
tary inn. 

Meanwhile, the horses. 

“ Oh,” says the lieutenant, coming in out of the dark, “ I have 
found a famous fellow — the first man I have seen in England who 
does his work well with grooming a horse. He is an excellent 
fellow — I have seen nothing like it. The horses are well off this 
night, I can assure you ; you will see how good they look to-mor- 
row morning.” 

“ It is strange so good an hostler should be found here,” re- 
marks Tita. 

“ But he is not an hostler,” replies the lieutenant, rubbing his 
hands at the fire ; “ he is a groom to some gentleman near. The 
hostler is away. He does his work as a favor, and he does it so 
that I think the gentleman must keep some racing-horses.” 

“ How do you manage to find out all these things about the 
people you meet ?” asked Titania, with a gracious smile. 

“ Find out !” replied the tall young man, with his blue eyes 
staring. “ I do not think I find out any more than others. It 
is people talk to you. And it is better to know a little of a man 
you give your horses to — and there is some time to talk when 
you are seeing after the horses — and so — that is perhaps why 
they tell me.” 

“ But you have not to see about your horses when you are in a 
bookseller’s shop at nine in the morning, and the young lady 
there tells you about the milliners’ shops and the students,” says 
my lady. 


116 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Oh, she was a very nice girl,” remarks the lieutenant, as if 
that were sufficient explanation. 

“ But you talk to every one, whether they are young ladies, or 
innkeepers, or grooms : is it to perfect your pronunciation of 
English?” 

“Yes, that is it,” said the young man, probably glad to arrive 
at any solution of the problem. 

“ Then you ought not to speak to hostlers.” 

“ But there is no hostler who talks so very bad as I do — I 
know it is very, very bad — ” 

“ I am mre you are mistaken,” says Bell, quite warmly, but 
looking down ; “ I think you speak very good English — and it is 
a most difficult language to pronounce — and I am sure there are 
few Germans who can speak it as freely as you can.” 

“All that is a very good compliment, mademoiselle,” he said, 
with a laugh that caused Bell to look rather embarrassed. “ I 
am very glad if I could think that, but it is impossible. And as 
for freedom of speaking — oh yes, you can speak freely, comforta- 
bly, if you are going about the country, and meeting strangers, 
and talking to any one, and not caring whether you mistake or 
not ; but it is different when you are in a room with very polite 
English ladies who are strangers to you — and you are introduced 
— and you do not know how to say those little sentences that are 
proper to the time. That is very difficult, very annoying. But 
it is very surprising the number of your English ladies who have 
learned German at school ; while the French ladies, they know 
nothing of that, or of anything that is outside Paris. I do 
think them the most useless of women — very nice to look at, and 
very charming in their ways, perhaps — but not sensible, honest, 
frank like the Englishwomen, and not familiar with the serious- 
ness of the world, and not ready to see the troubles of other peo- 
ple. But your Englishwoman who is very frank to be amused, 
and can enjoy herself when there is a time for that — who is gen- 
erous in time of trouble, and is not afraid, and can be firm and 
active and yet very gentle, and who does not think always of her- 
self, but is ready to help other people, and can look after a house, 
and manage affairs — that is a better kind of woman, I think — 
more to be trusted, more of a companion — oh, there is no com- 
parison !” 

All this time the lieutenant was busy stirring up the fire, and 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


117 


placing huge lumps of coal on the top ; and he had obviously 
forgotten that he was saying these things to two Englishwomen. 
Tita seemed rather amused, and kept looking at Bell; Bell said 
nothing, but pretended to be arranging the things on the table. 
When the lieutenant came back from the fire, he had apparent- 
ly forgotten his complimentary speech; and was regarding with 
some curiosity the mighty dish of ham and eggs that had come 
in for our supper. 

That was a very comfortable and enjoyable repast. When the 
chill of driving through the fogs of the plain had worn off, we 
found that it was not so very cold up here on the hill. A very 
liberal and honest appetite seemed to prevail ; and there was a 
tolerable attack made on the ample display of ham and eggs. 
As for the beer that our lieutenant drank, it is not fair to tell 
stories. He said it was good beer, to begin with. Then he 
thought it was excellent beer. At length he said he had not 
tasted better since he left London. 

Women get accustomed to many things during the course of a 
rambling journey like this. You should have seen how naturally 
Queen Tita brought forth the bezique-cards directly after supper, 
and how unthinkingly Bell fetched some matches from the man- 
tel-piece and placed them on the table. My lady had wholly for- 
gotten her ancient horror of cigar smoke — in any case, as she 
pointed out, it was other people’s houses we were poisoning with 
the odor. As for Bell, she openly declared that she enjoyed the 
scent of cigars ; and that in the open air, on a summer evening, 
it was as pleasant to her as the perfume of the wild roses or the 
campions. 

However, there was no bezique. We fell to talking. It be- 
came a question as to which could find the freshest phrases and 
the strongest adjectives to describe his or her belief that this was 
the only enjoyable fashion of travelling. The abuse that was 
poured upon trains, stations, railway - porters, and the hurry of 
cabs in the morning, was excessive. Time-tables of all sorts were 
spoken of with an animosity which was wonderful to observe 
when it came along with the soft and pleasant undertones of our 
Bonny Bell’s voice. Tita said she should never go abroad any 
more. The lieutenant vowed that England was the most delight- 
ful country in the world to drive through. The present writer 
remarked that the count had much to see yet; whereupon the 


118 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


foolish young man declared he could seek for no pleasanter days 
than those he had just spent, and wished, with some unnecessary 
emphasis, that they might go on forever. At this moment Bell 
rose and went to the window. 

Then we heard an exclamation. Looking round, we found the 
shutters open, and lo ! through the wdndow we could see the 
white glare of moonlight falling into the empty thoroughfare, 
and striking on the wall on the other side of the way. 

“ It cannot be very cold outside,” Bell remarks. 

“ Bell !” cries Queen Tita, “ you don’t mean to go out at this 
time of night !” 

“ Why not, madame ?” says the lieutenant. “ Was it not agreed 
before we came up the hill? And when could you get a more 
beautiful night? I am sure it will be more beautiful than the 
sunrise from the top of the Niessen.” 

“ Oh, if you think so,” says my lady, with a gentle courtesy, 
“ by all means let us go out for a little walk.” 

That is the way affairs began to be ordered about to suit the 
fancies of those young nincompoops. What little vestige of au- 
thority remained with the eldest of the group was exerted to se- 
cure a provision of shawls and rugs. Bell was not loath. She 
had a very pretty gray shawl. She had also a smart little gray 
hat, which suited it ; and as the hat was trimmed with blue, the 
gray shawl could not have a prettier decoration than the blue rib- 
bon of the guitar. Who proposed it, I cannot say ; but Bell had 
her guitar with her when we went out into the bright wonder of 
the moonlight. 

Bourton-on-the-Hill was now a mass of glittering silver, and 
sharp, black shadows. Below us we could see the dark tower of 
the church, gleaming gray on the one side ; then a mass of houses 
in deep shadow, with a radiance shining from their tiles and slates ; 
then the gray road down the hill, and on one side of it a big wall, 
with its flints sparkling. But when we got quite to the summit, 
and clambered on to a small piece of common where were some 
felled trees, what words can describe the extraordinary view that 
lay around us ? The village and ito small church seemed to be 
now half-way down the hill ; whereas the great plain of the land- 
scape appeared to have risen high up on the eastern horizon, 
where the almost invisible stars met the dark woods of Oxford- 
shire, Over this imposing breadth of wood and valley and mead- 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


119 


ow — with its dark lines of trees, its glimmerings of farm-houses 
and winding streams — the flood of moonlight lay so softly that 
the world itself seemed to have grown clear from underneath. 
There were none of the wild glares of white surfaces, and the 
ebony blackness of shadows which threw everything around us 
into sharp outline; hut a far-reaching and mellow glamour that 
showed us the mists lying along the river -tracks, and only re- 
vealed to us the softened outlines and conflgurations of the land. 
If there had been a ruddy light in Moreton-in-the-Marsh, we should 
have seen it ; but the distant village seemed dead ; and it, as well 
as all the great tract of wooded country around it, was whitened 
over by this softened and silent and almost sepulchral radiance 
that lay somehow between the dark-blue vault overhead and the 
vast plain beneath. It was but a young moon, hut the exceeding 
rarity of the air lent strength to its radiance. 

“Does not moonlight give you the impression that you can 
hear far?” said Bell, in a rather low voice, as if the silence and 
the stars had overawed her. “ It is like frost. You fancy you 
could hear hells ringing a hundred miles across the clear air.” 

“ Mademoiselle, you will let us hear your singing in this still- 
ness ?” said the lieutenant. 

“ No, I cannot sing now,” she said ; and the very gentleness of 
her voice forbade him to ask again. 

We passed along the road. The night air was sweet with the 
odor of flowers. Out in the west, where the moonlight was less 
strong, the stars were faintly twinkling. Not a breath of wind 
stirred ; and yet it seemed to us that if a sound had been uttered 
anywhere in the world, it must have been carried to us on this 
height. We were as gods up here in the cold sky and the moon- 
light ; and far over the earth sleep had sealed the lips and the 
eyes of those poor creatures who had forgotten their sorrows for 
a time. Should we send them dreams to sweeten their lives by 
some glimpses of a world different from their own, and cause them 
to awaken in the morning with some reminiscence of the trance 
in their softened memories ? Or would it not be better to drown 
them in the fast and hard sleep of fatigue, so that the dawn might 
bring them a firmer heart and no vanity of wishes ? Gods as we 
were, we had no care for ourselves. It was enough to be. Could 
not the night last forever, and keep us up here near the stars, and 
give us content and an absolute want of anxiety for the morrow? 


120 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Queen Titania wandered on as if she were in an enchanted gar* 
den, followed by a black shadow on the gleaming white road ; 
and her face, with all its gentleness and delicacy, seemed to have 
gained something of a pale and wistful tenderness as the white 
light shone down over the dark woods and crossed our path. As 
for Bell — but who can describe the grace and the figure that 
walked before us — the light touching the gray shawl, and the 
fine masses of brown hair that hung all round the shapely neck 
and shoulders ? We four were in England, sure enough ; but it 
seemed to us then that we were very much alone, and about as 
near to the starry world as to the definite landscape lying far 
away on the plain. 

We turned, however, when it was found that the road did not 
lead to any view of the western country. It seemed to run along 
a high level, cutting through between sand-pits, farms, and woods ; 
and so we made our way back to the bit of common overlooking 
Bourton, and there we had a few minutes’ rest before getting into 
the small inn, whose windows were gleaming red into the white 
moonlight. 

“ Now you must sing to us something, mademoiselle,” said the 
lieutenant ; “ and here is a fine big tree cut down, that we can all 
sit on ; and you shall appear as Apollo in disguise, charming the 
natives of this landscape with your song.” 

“ But I do not know anything that Apollo sung,” said Bell, 
sitting down, nevertheless, and taking the guitar from her com- 
panion. 

“ That is no matter. You must think yourself some one else 
— why not Zerlina, in this strange place, and you see Fra Diavolo 
sitting alone on the rock, and you sing of him, yes ? This is a 
very good place for highwaymen. I have no doubt they have sat 
here, and watched the gentleman’s carriage come up the road be- 
neath ; and then, hey ! with a rush and a flourish of pistols, and 
a seizing of the horses, and madame shrieks in the carriage, and 
her husband, trembling, but talking very brave, gives up his mon- 
ey, and drives on, with much swearing, but very contented to have 
no hurt.” 

“ You are very familiar with the ways of highway robbers,” 
said Bell, with a smile. 

“ Mademoiselle, I am an Uhlan,” he replied, gravely. 

Two at least of the party startled the midnight air with their 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


121 


laughter over this unintentional rebuke ; but Bell, conscious of 
past backslidings, seemed rather discomfited, and hastened to say 
that she would, if he pleased, sing the song in which Zerlina de- 
scribes the bandit. 

She sung it, too, very charmingly, in that strange silence. 
Knowing that we could not well see her face, she lent herself to 
the character, and we could hear the terror of Zerlina thrilling 
through her experiences of the dreaded Diavolo. “ Diavolo ! Di- 
avolo !” the dark woods round us seemed to say. “ Diavolo ! Di- 
avolo throbbed the bass strings of the guitar ; and the girl’s 
voice trembled in its low tones as she pronounced the name. If 
any lonely stranger had been passing along the highway at this 
hour, what would he have thought of this strange thing — a beau- 
tiful girl seated overhead, amidst the stars, apparently, with the 
moonlight striking on her exquisite face and her masses of hair, 
while she sung in a low and impassioned voice, and struck chords 
from some strange instrument? Would she not appear as some 
wild vision of the Lorelei ? Or, considering that companions were 
visible, and some talking and jesting occasionally heard, might not 
this be a company of strolling play-actors, such as all honest per- 
sons were aforetime conjured to discountenance and suppress?* 

You know that when Zerlina has sung the first verses of her 
dramatic song, Diavolo, disguised as a marquess, suddenly rises 
and sings the concluding verse himself. Bell accordingly handed 
the guitar to Count Von Rosen, with a pretty smile. But would 
a young man, on such a night, sing a ballad about a mere bandit ? 
No ! The lieutenant was not averse to act the character of Diav- 
olo, so far as his minstrelsy went, but he adopted one of his gen- 
tler moods. Lightly running his fingers over the strings, he be- 
gan to sing of Agnese la Zitella, and how had he learned to soften 
his voice so ? The pretty Agnes was told that she was as sweet 
as the spring, and then she is made to call forth her lover because 
the night is so fair — so much fairer than the day — and so silent. 
’Tis a pleasant barcarole, and conveys a message as well as anoth- 


* “All persons concerned are hereby desired to take notice of and sup- 
press all mountebanks, rope-dancers, ballad-singers, etc., that have not a li- 
cense from the Master of his Majesty’s Revels (which for the present year 
are all printed with black letters, and the king’s arms in red). . . .and all 
those that have licenses with red and black letters are to come to the office 
to change them for licenses as they are now altered. April 17th, 1684.” 


122 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


er. But lest he should be thought too bold, probably, our Uhlan 
rose abruptly when he had finished the song, and said, lightly, 
with a laugh, 

“ There ! was not that touching enough for Diavolo ? He was 
a very accomplished person, to have all the rough delights of a 
brigand, and then go about dressed as a marquess, and amuse him- 
self with adventures. I think they treated him badly in the end, 
if I do remember right.” 

Bell did not answer. She had got back the guitar. Appar- 
ently she was looking far down over the moonlit plain — her eyes 
grown distant and thoughtful — and as her fingers wandered over 
the strings, we heard, almost as in a dream, the various careless 
notes shape themselves into a melody — a wild, sad melody, that 
seemed to breathe the tenderness and the melancholy of this still 
night. “ Silent, O Moyle, be the sound of thy waters ” — perhaps 
that was the air ; or perhaps it was the heart-breaking “ Coolin ” 
— one could scarcely say ; but when at last w^e heard no more of 
it, Tita rose and said we must go in-doors. There was something 
quite regretful in her tone. It seemed as if she were bidding 
good-by to a scene not soon to be met with again. 

The lieutenant gave his hand to Bell, and assisted her down 
the steep bank into the road ; and we passed on until the window 
of the inn was found glimmering red through the moonlight. 
We cast a brief glance around. Bourton lay beneath us, asleep. 
The great landscape beyond remained dark and silent under the 
luminous whiteness of the air. The silence seemed too sacred to 
be broken. 

“ Good-night,” said Tita to the lieutenant ; “ I hope you have 
spent at least one pleasant evening with us on this journey.” 

“ I have spent many, madam,” he said, earnestly, “ and many 
very pleasant mornings and days, and I hope we shall have a 
great many more. I do think we four ought to turn vagrants — 
gypsies, you call them — and go away altogether, and never go 
back any more to a large town.” 

“ What do you say. Bell ?” asked Tita, with a kindly, if half- 
mischievous, look. 

“ I suppose we get to Worcester to-morrow,” said Bell, with 
not much appearance of joy in her face ; and then she bade good- 
night to us all, and left with my lady. 

“ There it is,” said the lieutenant, with an impatient flinging- 


A MOONLIGHT NIGHT. 


123 


down of liis cap on the table. “ That is what interferes with all 
our pleasure. You go away on the most delightful excursion in 
the world — you have the most beautiful scenes, and pleasant com- 
panions, and freedom — everything you can wish ; and then the 
young lady who ought to be more happy than any one ; who is 
at the time of life to have no care but to enjoy her prettiness and 
her good temper, and all that; who is the pleasant ornament of 
the excursion, and is a great delight to all of us — then she is 
vexed and frightened because that this — this — contemptible fel- 
low threatens to meet her in one of those big towns. Sacker- 
rrrr-ment! I do hope he will come and have it over; but if he 
is annoying, if he troubles her any more — ” 

Thus do we poor mortals fret and vex ourselves in the midst 
of our happiest circumstances. But at last there comes a time 
for sleep. And soon this solitary inn on the hill was as quiet 
and peaceful as the great world outside, where the moonlight 
seemed to have hushed the very winds to rest, and where the far 
woods and the streams and the low hills along the edge of the 
land lay still and dark under the cold majesty of the stars. 

l^Note by Queen Titania, written at Worcester on the evening of the following 
day. — “Any comment of mine on the foregoing is at the moment unneces- 
sary ; we have other matters to engage our attention. Arthur has come. I 
can find no words to express the deep and serious annoyance which this es- 
capade is likely to cause. All our plans may be upset ; for he can scarcely 
explain his present wild proceedings without provoking some sort of final 
agreement with Bell. And suppose she should consent to be engaged to 
him, how are we to continue our journey ? Of course he will not allow her : 
if he had not disliked it, he would not be here now. Certainly, I think Bell 
has acted imprudently ; for I told her that if she did not answer his letter, 
he would be sure to imagine all manner of things, and come and see her. 
The consequence is that she is, I fear, in a great dilemma ; for I do not see 
how she can avoid either refusing him altogether, or consenting to everything 
that he asks. And as we can’t continue our journey till Monday, he will 
have a whole day to persecute her into giving him an answer of some kind ; 
and then she is so foolishly good-hearted that, if he is only pathetic enough, 
she will say ‘ yes ’ to everything. It is most provoking. If we could only get 
this one day over, and him, hack to London .^”] 


124 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


CHAPTER X. 

THE AVENGER. 

“ Love had ordained that it was Abra’s turn 
To mix the sweets and minister the urn.” 

Surely nine o’clock was early enough for breakfast at this re- 
mote little inn on the top of the hill ; and indeed, when we parted 
the night before, after our moonlight improvisation of “ Fra Di- 
avolo,” that was the hour agreed upon. Nine o’clock ! Going 
down at a quarter-past eight, with some notion that the lieuten- 
ant might have sat up half the night consuming his wrath in the 
smoking of many cigars, and might now be still in bed, I heard 
voices. Sometimes there was a laugh — and no one who had once 
heard Bell’s musical laugh could ever mistake it. When I went 
into the parlor which had been the lieutenant’s bedroom, I found 
that all traces of his occupation were gone ; a fire was burning 
brightly in the grate, the breakfast-tray was laid, and Bell sat at 
the open window talking to Von Rosen himself, who was stand- 
ing out on the pavement in the full blaze of the morning sun- 
shine, that now filled the main thoroughfare of Bourton-on-the- 
Hill. 

Bell looks round with a startled air. 

“ My dear,” I say to her, “ travelling is doing you a world of 
good. Early rising is an excellent thing for young people.” 

“ I did not know when you might want to start,” says Bell, 
gently, and rather averting her eyes — for which there was no rea- 
son whatever. 

At this moment Queen Titania came down, looking brisk and 
cheerful, as she always does in the morning. She glanced at the 
fire, at the clean table, at Bell sitting by the window, and at the 
blaze of sunlight on the wall on the other side of the street. Ap- 
parently, this pleasant picture put her into an excellent humor, 
and she said to the lieutenant, with one of her brightest looks, 

“ Well, have you been making discoveries this morning ? Have 
you made the acquaintance of many people ? Has Bourton-on- 
the-Hill anything peculiar about it ?” 


THE AVENGER. 


125 


“ Oh yes, madame,” said the lieutenant, seriously, “ something 
very singular, which you wdll not like to hear. This is an Eng- 
lish village, in the middle of the country, and yet they never 
have any milk here — never. They cannot get any. The farm- 
ers prefer to make butter, and they will not sell milk on any in- 
ducement.” 

“ Why,” said Tita, “ that is the reason of our having no milk 
with our tea last evening. But is there no one the landlady can 
beg a little milk from ?” 

The lieutenant looked at Bell, and that young lady endeavored 
to conceal a smile. They had evidently been speculating on 
Tita’s dismay before we came down. 

“The great farmer in the neighborhood,” continued the lieu- 
tenant, gravely, “ is a Mrs. Phillips. I think she owns all the 
cattle — all the milk. I did send to her a polite message an hour 
ago, to ask if she would present us with a little of it — but no ; 
there is no answer. At the moment that mademoiselle came 
down, I was going up to Mrs. Phillips’s farm, to get the milk for 
you, hut mademoiselle was too proud for that, and would not al- 
low me to go, and said she would not take it now, since the wom- 
an had refused it.” 

“ And how did you propose to overcome Mrs. Phillips’s obsti- 
nacy ?” asked Tita, who seemed possessed by a fear that sooner 
or later the predatory instincts of this Uhlan would get us into 
trouble. 

“ Oh, I do not know, but I should have got it some way,” said 
the lieutenant ; and with that he held out a small book he had 
in his hand. “ See ! I have made more discoveries this morning. 
Here is a note-book I have found, of a young lady at school, who 
has been staying, perhaps, at this house; and it has given me 
much amusement — oh, very much amusement, and instruction 
also. It is just the same as if I had been in the school with her, 
and she has told me all about her teachers, and the other girls, 
and all that. Shall I read some to you ?” 

“ Now, is it fair,” said Bell, “ to peep into a young lady’s se- 
crets like that ?” 

“But I have done so already,” replied Von Rosen, coolly. “I 
have read it all ; and now I will tell you some of it. First, there 
are addresses of friends — that is nothing. Then there are 
stitches of knitting — that is nothing, only the young lady seems 


126 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


correct and metliodist — no, methodical, I should say. Then there 
are notes of lectures, and very much good information in them, 
oh, very good indeed: I am not surprised your English young 
ladies know very much. Let me see : '‘Epic poetry we like, be- 
cause they treat of great men and great actions. "Paradise Lost'' 
admired for its noble language. Milton a Puritan. England 
receives solidity of character from the Puritans. Dryden and 
Byron are not read, although very great. Byron hated his own 
race — is not a good poet to read.' This is very good instruc- 
tion ; but she hastens now to put down something about two 
other girls, who were perhaps at the lecture. She says : 'Shock- 
ing, impertinent, ill-bred creatures ; my spirit recoils from them.' 
Then there is a question addressed to her neighbor : 'Do you see 
how Miss Williams has got her hair done?' " 

Here Queen Titania protested against these revelations, and 
would have held out her hand for the book ; but the lieutenant 
only stepped back a few inches from the window, and said, seri- 
ously, 

“There is much better information to come. Here she puts 
down in order the phrases which one of the masters has used to 
her class: polite phrases, she says, to use to ladies. ‘ 1. You de- 
grade yourselves. 2. How much more kitchen-maidism ? 3. Sim- 
ply offensive. 4. It shows how you have been brought up. 5. I 
will put a stop to this impertinence. 6. Silence, ladies ! '1. Pret- 

ty conduct !' I am afraid he has had an unruly class. Then the 
young lady has a little piece of composition which I think is the 
beginning of a novel. She says, 'The summit of Camberwell 
Grove, which forms part of the lordly elevation known as Den- 
mark Hill, is one of the most charming and secluded retreats 
around the great metropolis. Here, in the spring-time, groves of 
lindens put forth their joyous leaves, and birds of various colors 
flit through the branches, singing hymns of praise. On the one 
side, the dreary city dwells behind an enchanted veil of trees ; on 
the other, you pass into emerald fields, which stretch onward to 
the Arabian magnificence of the Crystal Palace. In this lofty 
and picturesque spot Lord Arthur Beauregard was accustomed to 
pace, musing on the mystery and gloom which had enveloped him 
since he left the cradle.' There is no more of this very good sto- 
ry, but on the next page there is a curious thing ; there are three 
lines all surrounded by a scroll, and do you know what is writ- 


THE AVENGER. 


127 


ten? — JVoman can do anything with a man hy not contra- 
dicting him and underneath the scroll is written, ^ Don't I wish 

this was true? Helen M None of the rest is written so 

clearly as this — ” 

“ Count Yon Rosen, I will not listen to any more ?” cried Tita. 
“ It is most unfair of you to have been reading this young lady’s 
confessions — ” 

“ I get them in a public inn : I have the right, have I not ?” re- 
monstrated the lieutenant. “ It is not for pleasure, it is for my 
instruction, that I read. Oh, there are very strange things in this 
book.” 

“ Pray give it to me,” said Bell, quite gently. 

He had refused to surrender it to my lady ; but the moment 
that Bell asked for it, he came forward and handed it in through 
the window. Then he came in to breakfast. 

Little time was spent at breakfast ; the sun was shining too 
brightly outside. We called for our bill, which was brought in. 
It was entitled “ Bill of Fare.” Our dinner of the previous even- 
ing was called tea, and charged at the rate of one shilling a head. 
Our breakfasts were one shilling each. Our bedrooms were one 
shilling each. Any traveller, therefore, who proposes to stay at 
Bourton-on-the-Hill, cannot do better than put up at the inn of 
W. Seth Dyde, especially as there is no other; and I heartily 
wish that he may enjoy something of the pleasant companion- 
ship, the moonlight, and the morning freshness that graced our 
sojourn on the top of this Worcestershire hill. 

Then into the phaeton again, and away we go through the 
white sunlight and the light morning breeze that is blowing 
about these lofty woods ! There is a resinous odor in the air, 
coming from the furze and the ferns. The road glares in the 
sunlight. Overhead the still blue is scarcely flecked by a cloud ; 
but all the same there is a prevailing coolness that makes the 
driving through the morning air delicious. It is a lonely country 
— this stretch of forest and fleld on the high level between Bour- 
ton and Broadway. We pass Bourton Clump, and leave Bour- 
ton Wood on the right. We skirt Upton Wold, and get on by 
Furze Heath. Then, all at once, the land in front of us seems 
to drop down ; we come in sight of an immense stretch of blue 
plain, from which the thin mists of the morning have not wholly 
risen. We are on the top of the famous Broadway Hill. 


128 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


By the side of the road there is a strange, old-fashioned little 
building, which is apparently a way-side chapel. Count Von Ro- 
sen jumps down to have a look at this odd relic of our former 
Catholicism, which has remained on the summit of this hill for 
several centuries. He can discover nothing but a sign which tells 
that this sacred edifice now contains wines, spirits, and beer ; so 
he comes back, and goes up to the corner of a field opposite, 
where a middle-aged man, surrounded by some young folks, is 
making hay. In the utter stillness of the place, we can hear all 
the questions and answers. The small building is not so very 
old ; it never was a church. The stones there mark the bounda- 
ry between Gloucester and Worcester. The view from this place 
is considered unrivalled for extent ; you can see the Black Sandy 
Mountains on a very clear day. 

“ Indeed !” says the count. “ Where are they, the mountains 
you speak of ?” 

“ I don’ knaw, sir ; I’ve heerd tell on ’em ; I never wur theear.” 

Going down this steep hill Tita looks anxious. A bad stum- 
ble, and we should go rolling over the little wall into the ravine 
beneath. One has a far-off reminiscence of Switzerland in watch- 
ing the horses hanging back from the pole in this fashion, while 
every bend of the road seems more precipitous than its predeces- 
sor. Then we get down to the plain, rattle through the level and 
straggling village of Broadway, and drive into the fields again, 
where the sun is lying warmer than it was up over the top of 
the hill. 

There is a small boy in a smock-frock sitting underneath the 
hedge, whittling a stick, while a shepherd’s dog lies on the grass 
beside him. 

“ Evesham ?” calls out the count, as we pass, merely because 
there has been a little doubt about the road. 

“ Naw, zir,” was the answer, uttered with a fine sang-froid. 

Of course we pull up directly. 

“ Isn’t this the way to Evesham ?” I ask. 

“ Yaas, zir,” said the boy, coolly looking up from his stick, but 
sitting still. 

“ This is the way to Evesham 

“ Yaas, zir.” 

“ Do you know where it is ?” 

“ Naw, zir.” 


THE AVENGER. 


129 


“ He is a very cautious boy,” says the lieutenant, as we drive 
on ; “a very cautious boy indeed.” 

“ If he had been asked properly at first,” says Bell, with great 
gravity, “ he would have given a proper answer. But when you 
say ‘ Evesham V of course the boy tells you this is not Evesham.” 

Evesham, when we did get to it, was found to be a very bright, 
clean, and lively little town, with the river Avon, slowly gliding 
through flat meadows, forming a sort of loop around it. In the 
quaint streets a good amount of business seemed to be going on ; 
and as we put up at The Crown, and went off for a brief ramble 
through the place, we found quite an air of fashion in the cos- 
tume of the young ladies and the young gentlemen whom we 
met. But the latter, although they had copied very accurately 
the Prince of Wales’s dress of the previous year, and had very 
stiff collars and prominent canes, had an odd look of robust health 
in their cheeks, which showed they were not familiar with Picca- 
dilly and the Park ; while the former, although they were very 
pretty and very neatly attired, ought not to have turned and pre- 
tended to look into the shop-windows in order to have a look at 
Bell’s pretty gray dress and hat, and at Queen Titania’s more se- 
vere but no less graceful costume. But Evesham does not often 
entertain two angels unawares; and some little curiosity on the 
part of its inhabitants may be forgiven. 

The people of Evesham are not much given to boating on the 
Avon ; and so — postponing our usual river excursion until we 
should reach the Severn — Bell besought us to go into a photog- 
rapher’s establishment, and make experiments with our appear- 
ance. The artist in question lived in a wooden house on wheels ; 
and there were specimens of his handiwork nailed up outside. 
Our entrance apparently surprised the photographer, who seemed 
a little nervous, and perhaps was a trifle afraid that we should 
smile at his efforts in art. But surely nothing could be more 
kindly than Bell’s suggestions to him and her conversation with 
him ; for she, as a “ professional ” herself, conducted the negotia- 
tions and arranged the groups. The artist, charmed to see that 
she knew all about his occult processes, and that she was withal 
a very courteous and kindly visitor, became almost too confiden- 
tial with her, and began to talk to her of us three as if we were 
but blocks of wood and of stone to be played with as these two 
savants chose. Of the result of the various combinations into 
9 


130 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


whicli we were thus forced, little need be said. Queen Titania 
came out very well ; her pale, dark, clear-cut face telling in every 
picture, and even making us forget the tawdry bit of brass and 
the purple velvet of the frame. As for the rest of us, a journey 
is not a good time to have one’s portrait taken. The flush of 
healthy color produced by the wind, and by much burning of the 
sun, may look very well on the natural face, but is apt to produce 
a different effect on glass. 

The lieutenant, for example, roared with laughter when he saw 
himself transfigured into a ferocious bandit, with a great black 
beard, a dark face, and two white holes where his eyes should 
have been. But the moment he had laughed out, he caught sight 
of Bell’s face. The young lady looked very much vexed, and her 
eyes were cast down. Instantly the young man said, loud enough 
for the photographer to hear, 

“ I do seem to myself very ridiculous in this English costume. 
When you are used to uniforms for a very long time, and all at 
once get into this common dress, you think yourself some other 
person, and you cannot help laughing at the appearance yourself 
makes.” 

Bell’s eyes said “ Thank you ” as plainly as eyes could speak ; 
and then she paid a very grave and gentle compliment to the ar- 
tist, whom we left beaming over with pride and gratitude towards 
the young lady. 

“To go flirting with a travelling photographer !” says Queen 
Tita, as we go in to luncheon ; “ for shame, Bell !” 

“ No, it was only mademoiselle’s good-nature to the poor man,” 
replies the lieutenant, with an unnecessary tone of earnest protest. 
“ I do think he is the very happiest person in Evesham to-day — 
that he has not been so happy for many a day.” 

“I think the portraits are very good,” says Bell, bravely, “if 
you consider how he has to work.” 

“ Now you know you can’t excuse yourself, Bell,” says my 
lady. “You paid him compliments that would have turned any 
man’s head ; and as for the truth of them — or rather the unblush- 
ing perversion of truth in them — ” 

But at this moment Tita happened to be passing Bell’s chair, 
and she put her hand very gently on the young lady’s head, and 
patted her cheek — a little caressing action which said more than 
a thousand protestations of affection. 


THE AVENGER. 


131 


Our setting out for Worcester was rather a dismal business. 
Were we school-children who had been playing truant, that we 
should regard wdth apprehension a return to town? Or were 
Bell’s vague fears contagious? In vain the lieutenant sought to 
cheer her. She knew, and we all of us knew, that if Arthur Ash- 
burton chose to come and ask to see her, nothing could be easier 
than for him to discover our whereabouts. He was aware of our 
route, and had been told the names of the principal towns at 
which we should stop. A party of four arriving from London 
in a phaeton is not a customary occurrence, and a brief inquiry 
at the chief hotels in any town would be likely to give him all 
the information he required. 

Then, as we afterward discovered. Bell had returned no answer 
to the letter he had sent to Oxford. She had been too much hurt, 
and had forborne to reply in kind. Who does not know the dis- 
tracting doubts and fears that an unanswered letter — when one is 
At a certain age in life — may conjure up, and the terrible suspense 
that may prompt to the wildest action ? We seemed to share in 
Bell’s dismay. The lieutenant, however, was light-hearted enough, 
and, as he relinquished his attempts to break the silence, he sent 
the horses on at a good pace, and hummed to himself broken 
snatches of a ballad, and talked caressingly to Castor and Pollux. 

When we were a few miles from Evesham, without having seen 
anywhere a glimpse of the obelisk that stands on the famous 
Evesham plain, it occurred to us that we might as well ask if we 
were on the proper road. There seemed a curious quietness and 
picturesqueness about the wooded lanes through which we were 
driving in the calm of the twilight. At length we reached a turn- 
pike at the comer of several unfrequented paths, and here an old 
lady was contentedly sewing, while her assistant, a pretty little 
girl of thirteen, collected the sixpences. Well, we had only come 
about five miles out of our route. Instead of going by Pershore, 
we had struck away northward, and were now in a labyrinth of 
country lanes, by any of which we might make our way along 
through the still landscape to Worcester. Indeed, we had no 
cause to regret this error. The out-of-the-way road that runs by 
Fly ford Flavell and Broughton Hackett proved to be one of the 
pleasantest we had traversed. In the clear twilight we found our- 
selves driving through a silent and picturesque district, the only 
life visible in which was the abundant game. The partridges that 


132 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


were dusting themselves in the road before us did not get up and 
disappear with a strong, level, low flight towards some distant 
fleld, but walked sedately into the grass by the road -side, and 
then passed through the hedge. We saw several pheasants calm- 
ly standing at the outskirts of the woods. The plump little rab- 
bits ran about like mice around the fences. The sound of the 
phaeton wheels was the only noise heard in this peaceful soli- 
tude ; and as we drove on, the dusk grew apace, and the move- 
ments of bird and beast were no longer visible. 

Then a new twilight arose — a faint, clear light shining up from 
below the horizon, and we knew that the moon would speedily 
be glimmering through the black branches of the woods. The 
hamlets we passed showed streaks of red within their windows. 
There were glowworms in the road — points of blue Are in the 
vague darkness. Then we drove into the gloom of the avenues 
of Spetchley Park ; and Anally, with still another glare appearing 
in the sky — this time a ruddy hue, like the reflection of a great 
Are — we got nearer and nearer to the busy town, and at last heard 
the horses’ feet clattering on a stone street. 

The thoroughfares of Worcester were busy on this Saturday 
night ; but at length we managed to make our way through the 
people and vehicles up to the Star Hotel. We drove into the 
spacious archway, and passed into the hall, while the people were 
bringing in our luggage. The lieutenant was, as usual, busy in 
giving orders about everything, when the head waiter came up 
and begged to know my name. Then he presented a card. 

“ The gentleman is staying at The Crown. Shall I send him 
a message, sir ?” 

“ No,” says Tita, interposing ; “ I will write a note, and ask 
him to come round to dinner — or supper, whichever it ought to 
be called.” 

“ Oh, has Arthur come ?” says Bell, quite calmly. 

“ So it appears, my dear,” says Queen Titania ; and as she ut- 
ters the words, she flnds that Von Rosen has come up and has 
heard. 

“ All right,” he says, cheerfully. “ It will be a pleasure to 
have a visitor at dinner, madame, will it not ? It is a pity we 
cannot take him farther with us when we start on Monday ; but 
I suppose he has come on business to Worcester?” 

The lieutenant took the matter very coolly. He handed Bell 


SOME WORCESTER SAUCE. 


133 


and Tita up-stairs to look after the disposal of their effects ; and 
then came into the dining-room to see what arrangements had 
been made about dinner. 

“ If he behaves himself, that is very well and good. You must 
treat him civilly. But if not — if he is foolish and disaarreeable, 
why — ” 

The lieutenant did not say what would happen then. He be- 
thought himself of the horses, and strode away down into the 
darkness of the yard, humming lightly “ Madele, ruck, ruck, ruck, 
an meine griine Seite !” He was evidently in no warlike mood. 


CHAPTER XL 

SOME WORCESTER SAUCE. 

“ Faire Emmeline scant had ridden a mile, 

A mile forth of the towne. 

When she was aware of her father’s men 
Come galloping over the downe : 

“ And foremost came the carlish knight. 

Sir John of the north countraye ; 

‘ Nowe stop, nowe stop, thou false traitoure, 

Nor carrye that ladye awaye !’ ” 

“ My dear,” I say to Queen Titania, as she is fastening a rose 
in her hair before going down to dinner, “pray remember that 
Arthur Ashburton is ‘also a vertebrate animal.’ He has done 
nothing monstrous or inhuman in paying you a visit.” 

“ Paying me a visit ?” says Tita, impatiently. “ If he had come 
to see me, I should not care. But you know that he has come 
to pick a quarrel with Bell ; and that she is likely to grant him 
everything he asks ; and if she does not, there will be infinite 
trouble and vexation. I consider it most provoking — and most 
thoughtless and inconsiderate on his part — to thrust himself upon 
us in this way.” 

“And yet, after all,” I say, as she fastens on a bracelet which 
was given her nearly twenty years ago now, “ is there anything 
more natural ? A young man is in love with a young woman — ” 

“ It is his own fault,” she interposes. 

“ Perhaps. So much the worse. He ought all the more to 
have your compassion, instead of your indignant scorn. Well, 


134 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


she leaves his charming society to go off on a wild rampage 
through the country. A possible rival accompanies her. The 
young man is torn asunder with doubts and fears. He writes 
to her. She does not answer. His anxiety becomes a madness ; 
and forthwith he sets off in pursuit of her. Is there anything in 
all this to brand him as an outcast from humanity ?” 

“ Why, look at the folly of it ! If the girl had proper spirit, 
would it not drive her into refusing him altogether ?” 

“ Foolish, my dear, yes ! but not criminal. Now the whole of 
you seem to look on Arthur as a monster of wickedness, because 
he is anxious to marry the girl he is fond of.” 

My lady alters the disposition of the thin tracery of silver cord 
which runs through the dark masses of her hair, and as she thus 
manages to shelve the subject, she says, 

“I suppose we shall have a pleasant time at dinner. Arthur 
will be fiercely amusing. Plenty of sarcasm going about. Deadly 
looks of hatred. Jokes as heavy as that one Bell talks of — that 
was carried to the window by four men, and killed a policeman 
when it tumbled over.” 

My lady is gently reminded that this story was told of a Ger- 
man, before the date of Bell’s conversion ; whereupon she answers 
coolly, 

“Oh, I do not suppose that Count Von Rosen is like all Ger- 
mans. I think he is quite an exception — a very creditable ex- 
ception. I know I have never met any one the least like him 
before.” 

“ But heroes were not common in your country, were they ?” 

“ They were in yours,” says Tita, putting her arm within mine, 
and speaking with the most gracious sweetness ; “ and that was 
why they took no notice of you.” 

We go down-stairs. At the head of the large dining-room, in 
front of the fireplace, a young man is standing. He has a time- 
table in his hand, which he is pretending to read, and his hat is 
on his head. He hastily removes that most important part of an 
Englishman’s attire when my lady enters the room, and then he 
comes forward with a certain apprehension and embarrassed look 
on his face. If he had been growing nervous about his reception, 
there was nothing, at all events, to be feared from Queen Titania, 
who would have welcomed the * * * himself with an effusive 
courtesy, if only she had regarded it as her duty. 


SOME WORCESTER SAUCE. 


135 


“ Oh, Arthur,” she says, her whole face lighting up with a glad- 
ness which amazed even me, who am accustomed to watch her 
ways, “ I am really delighted to see you. How good of you to 
come and spend the evening with us on so short a notice ! I 
hope we have not taken you away from any other engagement ?” 

“ No,” says the young man, apparently very much touched by 
this kindness, “and — and — it is I who ought to apologize for 
breaking in on you like this.” 

“ Then you will spend to-morrow with us also ?” says my lady, 
quite pleasantly. Indeed, there is nothing like facing the inevita- 
ble with a good grace. 

“ Yes,” says Arthur, rather humbly, “ if you think I’m not in- 
truding.” 

“Why, your coming will be quite a relief. I should never 
have forgiven you if you had been in our neighborhood without 
coming to see us.” 

You might think that this little speech was of the nature of a 
fib. But it was not, just at that moment. When people are 
absent, Tita is about as cool, and accurate, and severe in her judg- 
ment of them as any woman can be ; and she is not disinclined 
to state her opinion. But once they come near her — and espe- 
cially if she has to play the part of hostess, and entertain them — 
the natural and excessive kindness of the woman drives her into 
the most curious freaks of unconscious hypocrisy. Half an hour 
before, she had been talking of Arthur in a way that would have 
considerably astonished that young man, if he had known; and 
had been looking forward with dismay and vexation to all the 
embarrassments of his visit. Now, however, that he was there — 
thrown on her mercy, as it were — she showed him quite inordi- 
nate kindness, and that in the most honest way in the world. A 
couple of minutes sufficed to convince Arthur that he had at least 
one firm friend in our household. 

He began to look anxiously towards the door. Presently, a 
voice that he knew pretty well was heard outside ; and then — 
ominous conjunction ! — the lieutenant and Bell entered together. 
Von Rosen had held the door open for his companion, so that 
Bell advanced first towards our visitor. Her face was quite calm, 
and a trifle reserved ; and yet every one could see that as she 
shook hands with the young man, there was a timid, half-conceal- 
ed look of pleasure and welcome in her eyes. He, on his part, 


136 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

was gloomily ceremonious. He scarcely took any notice of the 
greeting which the lieutenant carelessly addressed to him. He 
accompanied us over to the table, and took a seat on the right 
hand of Tita, with a silence that portended evil. We were likely 
to have a pleasant evening ! 

Had he possessed' a little more worldly prudence or savoir fair 
he would now have made some light excuse for his being present. 
He ought, for form’s sake, to have given us to understand that, as 
he was obliged to be in Oxford, he had come on by rail to pay us 
a visit. But as it was, no explanation was forth -coming. Our 
Apemantus had apparently dropped from the skies. He looked 
very uncomfortable, and replied in monosyllables to the various 
and continuous remarks that Tita addressed to him. He had 
never spoken to Bell, who sat next him, and who was herself si- 
lent. Indeed, the constraint and embarrassment from which she 
was suffering began to vex the lieutenant, who strove in vain to 
conquer it by every means in his power. 

The barometer steadily fell. The atmosphere grew more and 
more gloomy, until a storm of some sort was inevitable. The 
anxious efforts of Queen Tita to introduce some cheerfulness were 
touching to see ; and as for Bell, she joined in the talk about our 
journey, and what we had seen, in a series of disconnected obser- 
vations that were uttered in a low and timid tone, as if she were 
afraid to draw down lightning from the thunder-clouds. Lieu- 
tenant Von Rosen had at first addressed a word or two to our 
guest ; but finding the labor not productive, he had dropped him 
entirely out of the conversation. Meanwhile Arthur had drunk a 
glass or two of sherry. He was evidently nettled at finding the 
lieutenant almost monopolizing attention; for Tita herself had 
given up in despair, and was content to listen. Von Rosen was 
speaking as usual of the differences between English and German 
ways, and social aims, and what not, until at last he drifted into 
some mention of the republican phenomena that had recently 
been manifested in this country. 

Now what conceivable connection is there between the irrita- 
tion of an anxious lover and republicanism ? Master Arthur had 
never alarmed any of us by professing wild opinions on that sub- 
ject or on any other. We never knew that the young man had 
any political views, beyond a sort of nebulous faith in the Crown 
and the Constitution. Consider, therefore, our amazement when, 


SOME WORCESTER SAUCE. 


137 


at this moment, he boldly and somewhat scornfully announced 
himself a Democrat, and informed us that the time was come for 
dismissing old superstitions and destroying the last monopolies 
of feudalism. There would be a heavy account to settle with the 
aristocracy that had for generations made laws to secure its own 
interests, and tied up the land of the country so that an idle pop- 
ulation had to drift into the big towns and become paupers. All 
this was over. New times were at hand. England was ripe for 
a new revolution, and woe to them that tried to stem the tide ! 

The explanation of which outburst was merely this — that Ar- 
thur was so angry and impatient with the state of things immedi- 
ately around him, that he was possessed with a wild desire to up- 
set and destroy something. And there is nothing so easy to upset 
and destroy, in rhetoric, as the present political basis of this country. 

Well, we looked at the lad. His face was still aglow, and there 
was something of triumph as well as of fierceness in it. The hero 
of the old Silesian song, when his sweetheart has forgotten the 
vows she made, and the ring she gave him is broken in two, would 
like to rush away into battle, and sleep by camp-fires, under the 
still night. But nothing half so ordinary would do for our fire- 
eater, who, because he could not very well kill a Prussian lieuten- 
ant, must needs attack the British Crown. Was there any one of 
us four inclined to resent this burst of sham heroics ? Was there 
not in it something of the desperation of wretchedness that was 
far more entitled to awaken compassion ? Had Arthur been less 
in love, he would have been more prudent. Had he controlled his 
emotions in that admirable fashion with which most of our young 
gentlemen nowadays seem to set about the business of choosing a 
wife, he would not have made himself absurd. There was some- 
thing almost pitiable in this wild, incoherent, ridiculous effort of 
a young man to do or say something striking and picturesque 
before the eyes of a girl whose affections he feared were drifting 
away from him. 

The lieutenant, to whom this outbreak was particularly ad- 
dressed, took the affair very good-naturedly. He said, with a 
smile, 

“Do you know who will be the most disappointed, if you 
should have a republic in England ? Why, the republicans that 
are very anxious for it just now. Perhaps some of them are very 
respectable men — yes, I believe that ; but if I am not wrong, the 


138 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


men who make the great fuss about it in your nation are not like 
that. Agitators — is not that what you call them ? And, if you 
have England a republic, do yom think the government of the 
country will be given to those noisy persons of the present ? No 
— that is not possible, I think. When the republic comes, if it 
does come at all — and I do not know how much force is in this 
demonstration — all your great men, your well-educated men, your 
men of good position and good breeding and good feeling, they 
will all come forward, as they do now, to see that the country is 
properly governed. And what will become of the present repub- 
licans, who are angry because they cannot get into Parliament, 
and who wish for a change that they may become great persons? 
When you take away the crown, they will not all be kings, I 
think : there is too much of good sense in this country, and of 
public spirit, that makes your best men give up their own com- 
fort to look after the Government ; and so it will be then.” 

“ I hope there will be no violent change in our time, at least,” 
said Queen Tita. 

“Madame is anxious about the Church, I know,” remarked 
the lieutenant, with great gravity ; but he looked at Bell, and Bell 
could not altogether conceal a smile. Arthur, watching them both, 
noticed that little bit of private understanding, and the gloom on 
his face visibly deepened. 

This must be said, however, that when an embarrassing even- 
ing is unavoidable, a dinner is the best method of tiding it over. 
The various small incidents of the feast supply any ominous gaps 
in the conversation ; and there is, besides, a thawing influence in 
good meat and drink which the fiercest of tempers finds it hard 
to withstand. After the ebullition about republicanism, Arthur 
had quieted somewhat. By the time we had got down to the 
sweets, and perhaps with the aid of a little Champagne — the lad 
never drank much at any time, I ought to say — his anger had be- 
come modified into a morose and sentimental melancholy ; and 
when he did manage to speak to Bell, he addressed her in a wist- 
ful and pathetic manner, as if she were some one on board a ves- 
sel, and he saw her gradually going away from him, her friends, 
and her native land. One little revelation, nevertheless, comfort- 
ed him greatly ; and lovers apt to magnify their misfortunes will 
note that he might have enjoyed this solace long before if only 
he had exercised the most ordinary frankness. 


SOME WORCESTER SAUCE. 


139 


“You got a letter I sent you to Oxford, I suppose?” he said, 
with a studied carelessness. 

“Yes,” said Bell, with a little conscious color in her face as she 
bent down her eyes. 

“ I am glad I had the chance of seeing you to-night,” he con- 
tinued, with the same effort at self-possession, “ because I — I fan- 
cied you might be unwell — or some accident happened — since 
you did not send the telegram I begged of you.” 

Here an awful moment of silence intervened. Everybody trem- 
bled for Bell’s reply, which might provoke the catastrophe we had 
been seeking to postpone. 

“ It was only yesterday forenoon I got your letter,” Bell says, 
apparently feeling the silence uncomfortable ; “ and — and I meant 
to have answered it to-night — ” 

“ Oh, you were going to answer it ?” he says, with his face sud- 
denly getting bright. 

“ Yes,” she says, looking up with some surprise. “ You did 
not suppose I wouldn’t answer it ?” 

In fact, that was just what he had supposed, considering that 
she had been grievously offended by the tone of his letter. 

“ I meant to have let you know how we all were, and how far 
we had got,” says Bell, conveying an intimation that this sort of 
letter might be sent by anybody to anybody. 

Nevertheless, Arthur greatly recovered himself after this as- 
surance. She had not broken off with him, after all. He ex- 
plained that the letter must have been delayed on the way, or she 
would have got it the day before. He drank another glass of 
Champagne, and said, with a laugh, that he had meditated sur- 
prising us, but that the design had failed, for every one seemed 
to have expected him. 

“ I only came down this afternoon, and I suppose I must go 
back on Monday,” he remarked, ruefully. 

This looked so very like a request for an invitation that I was 
bound to offer him a seat in the phaeton, if he did not mind a 
little discomfort. You should have seen the look of amazement 
and indignation which my lady darted across the table at this mo- 
ment. Fortunately, Arthur did not notice it. He said he was 
very much obliged — he feared he would have to return — if he 
went with us for a day or two, he w^ould inconvenience us sadly, 
but he would consider it before Monday morning. 


140 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


After dinner, Von Rosen got up and proposed that he and I 
should go down to the billiard-room — which is in the end of the 
building abutting on the stable-yard — and smoke a cigar. Sure- 
ly generosity could go no further. Arthur looked surprised, and 
wore quite a pleasant smile on his face when we rose and left. 

But perhaps it was merely selfishness that caused our Uhlan to 
leave the field ; for as we two went down the passage, and made 
our way up to the spacious room, he said, 

“ I am rather sorry for mademoiselle. She does not seem to 
be very glad to meet her old friend ; perhaps because he is not 
in a good temper. That is why I did say we should go and play 
billiards — there will be a chance of an explanation — and to-mor- 
row he will be all right. It is foolish of him to be disagreeable. 
All this time of dinner, I was thinking to myself how well he 
might make himself agreeable if he only wished — with knowing 
all the polite phrases with ease, and being able to talk without 
thinking. For me, that is different, you know. I am bound in 
stupid limits ; and when I think to say something nice to any 
one, then I stop, because I know nothing of the words, just like 
at a wall.” 

He sent the red ball up and down the table in rather a peevish 
manner ; he felt that Arthur had an advantage, perhaps. 

“ But you talk English remarkably well.” 

“ But I have remarked that you English always say that to a 
foreigner, and will not tell him when he is wrong. I know I am 
often wrong — and always about your past tenses — your ‘ was lov- 
ing' and ^did love^ and Hoved^ and like that; and I believe I 
am very wrong with always saying ‘ do ' and ‘ did^ for I studied to 
give myself free-speaking English many years ago, and the book 
I studied with was ‘ Pepys’s Diary,’ because it is all written in the 
first person, and by a man of good station. Now I find you do 
not say ‘ I did think' but ‘ / thought' only it is very hard to re- 
member. And as for pronunciation, I know I am very wrong.” 

Well, he had certainly marked forms of pronunciation, which I 
have considered it unnecessary to reproduce in recording his talk. 
He said ^ I hef' for ^ I have' and ‘a goot shawt' for ‘a good shot.' 
He also made occasional blunders in accent, through adopting the 
accent of the Latin word from which the English word is derived. 
But what were such trifics to the main fact that he could make 
himself understood ? 


SOME WORCESTER SAUCE. 


141 


“ But this is very strange,” he said ; “ how much more clearly 
mademoiselle speaks than any English lady, or any English person 
I have known yet. It is very remarkable to me, how I have great 
difficulty to follow people who talk like as if they had several 
tongues rolling in their mouth, and others speak very fast, and 
others let the ends of the words slide away; hut Miss Bell, she 
is always clear, distinct, and very pleasant to hear ; and then she 
never speaks very loud, as most of your people do to a foreigner.” 

“Perhaps,” I say, “there is a reason for Bell’s clearness of 
speech.” 

“Why?” 

“ Perhaps she takes pains to be very distinct in talking to you, 
while she manages not to show it. Perhaps other people can no- 
tice that she speaks with a little more deliberation to you thau to 
any one else.” 

Von Rosen was obviously much struck. 

“ Is that possible ?” he said, with his eyes full of wonder. “ I 
have not noticed that she did talk slow to me.” 

“ No — she conceals it admirably ; but all the same, such is the 
fact. It is not so much slowness as a sort of careful precision of 
pronunciation that she affects — and you ought to be very grateful 
for such consideration.” 

“ Oh, I think it is very good of her — very good indeed — and I 
would thank her for it — ” 

“ Don’t do that, or you will have no more of it. And at pres- 
ent my lady is catching up a trick of talking in the same way.” 

“ It is very kind,” said the lieutenant, turning to the table with 
rather a thoughtful manner. “You would not have expected a 
young girl like that to be so reflective of other people.” 

Then he broke the balls, and by fair strength of arm screwed 
the white into the corner pocket. Nobody was more astonished 
than himself, except the marker. It was, indeed, the first losing 
hazard he had ever made, he never having played before on a ta- 
ble with pockets. His next stroke was not so successful ; and so 
he consoled himself with lighting a Partaga about eight inches in 
length. 

“ At all events,” he continued, “ your language has not the dif- 
ference of ^ Sie' and which is a great advantage. Oh, it is 
a very perplexing thing sometimes. Suppose you do know a 
young lady very well, and you have agreed with her in private 


142 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


you shall always call each other ‘ du and then before other peo- 
ple you call her Sie ^ — it is very hard not to call her du^ by 
mistake, and then every one jumps up and stares at you, and all 
the secret is known. That is a very terrible thing.” 

“And please what is the interesting ceremony with which you 
drink bruderschaft with a young lady ? The same as usual ? — a 
large jug of beer — your arms intertwined — ” 

“ No, no, no !” he cried. “ It is all a mystery. You shall not 
know anything of that. But it is very good — it is a very pleas- 
ant thing — to have bruderschaft with a young lady, although you 
drink no beer, and have no ceremonies about it.” 

“And what did Fraulein Fallersleben’s mamma say when you 
called her daughter ^ du' hj mistake ?” 

The large empty room resounded with the lieutenant’s laughter. 

“ That is a good guess — oh ! a very good guess — but not just 
good enough. For it was she who did call me duf and all the 
people were surprised — and then some did laugh ; but she herself 
— oh ! she was very angry with herself, and with me too, and for 
some time she called me ‘Nie’ even when we were together, until 
it was likely to be a quarrel. But one more quarrel,” added the 
lieutenant, with indifference, “ was not much matter. It was usu- 
ally one every day — and then writing of sorrowful letters at the 
night — and next morning some reconciliation — S acher merit ! 
what is the use of talking of all that nonsense ?” 

And then once more the ball flew about the table ; finally lodg- 
ing in a pocket, and scoring three for a miss. Indeed, our Uhlan 
was not at home with our big English tables, their small balls, 
pointed cues, and perpetual pockets. Even when he got a good 
chance of a carrom, the smallness of the balls caused him to fail 
entirely. But he had a very excellent cigar. It was something 
to be away from the embarrassment that had prevailed at dinner. 
Perhaps, too, he enjoyed a certain sense of austere self-satisfac- 
tion in having left to Arthur full possession of the field. On the 
whole, he enjoyed himself very well ; and then, our cigars being 
finished, we had a final look at the horses, and then returned to 
the coffee-room. 

“I am afraid,” said Von Rosen, with some alarm, “we have 
been negligent of our duties.” 

Master Arthur had left some half-hour before. The ladies had 
retired. Only one or two of the heaviest topers were left in the 


THE RIVALS. 


143 


bar-parlor ; the waiters looked as if they considered their week’s 
work fairly over. 

“ Tell me,” said my Prussian friend, as he got his candle, “ is 
that young gentleman coming round here to-morrow ?” 

“ Probably he is.” 

“Do you not think, then, it would be good to hire a vehicle 
and go away somewhere for a drive all the day before he comes ?” 

“To-morrow is Sunday.” 

“Well?” 

“ Do you fancy you would get either Bell or my lady to go 
driving on Sunday ? Don’t you propose such a thing, if you are 
wise. There is a cathedral in this town ; and the best thing you 
can do is to study its history and associations early in the morn- 
ing. You will have plenty of time to think over them to-mor- 
row, inside the building itself.” 

“ Oh, I do not object to that,” he remarked, coolly, as he went 
up-stairs, “and I do not care to have too much driving — it is 
only to prevent mademoiselle being annoyed, as I think she was 
at dinner this evening — that is all. I suppose we may go for a 
walk to-morrow after the church -time? And he will come? 
Very well, he will not harm me, I am sure ; but — but it is a pity 
—that is all.” 

And with this somewhat mysterious conclusion, the lieutenant 
disappeared towards his own room. 


CHAPTER XII. 

THE RIVALS. 

“ When on the gentle Severn’s sedgy bank, 

In single opposition, hand to hand, 

He did confound the best part of an hour 
In changing hardiment with great Glendower.” 

“ If we could only get over this one day !” — that was the bur- 
den of Tita’s complaining the next morning. Arthur had been 
invited to breakfast, and had declined ; but he was coming round 
to go with us to the Cathedral. Thereafter, everything to Tita’s 
mind was chaos. She dared hardly think of what the day might 
bring forth. In vain I pointed out to her that this day was but 


144 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


as another day; and that if any deeds of wrath or vengeance 
were hidden away in the vague intentions of our young friend 
from Twickenham, there was no particular safety gained in tiding 
over a single Sunday. 

“At all events,” says my lady, firmly, “you cannot do any- 
thing so imprudent as press him to accompany us farther on our 
journey.” 

“ Cannot the phaeton hold five ?” 

“You know it cannot, comfortably. But that is not the ques- 
tion. For my own part, I don’t choose to have a holiday spoiled 
by provoking a series of painful scenes, which I know will occur. 
We may manage to humor him to-day, and get him to leave us 
in an amiable mood ; but it would be impossible to do it two 
days running. And I am not sure even about this one day.” 

“ But what prevents his dropping down on us at any time — 
say at Shrewsbury, or Chester, or Carlisle — just as he has done 
here at Worcester ?” 

“ I will.” 

' That was enough. Having some regard for the young man, I 
hoped he would submit quietly. But lovers are headstrong ; and 
jealousy, when it is thoroughly aroused, leaves no place in the 
mind for fear. 

It was a bright morning. We could see, through the wire 
screens of the windows, the Worcester folks walking along the 
pavements with the sunlight shining on their Sunday finery. 

The lieutenant, as we hurriedly dispatched breakfast — for we 
were rather late — gave us his usual report. 

“ A very fine town,” he said, addressing himself chiefiy to Tita, 
who was always much interested in his morning rambles, “ with 
old religious buildings, and houses with ivy, and high walls to 
keep back the river. There is a large race -course, too, by the 
river ; and on the other side a fine suburb, built on a high bank, 
among trees. There are many pleasant walks by the Severn, 
w'hen you get farther down ; but I will show you all the place 
when we go out of the Cathedral. This is a great day at the 
Cathedral, they say — a chief sheriff of the county, I think they 
call him, is living at this hotel, and he is going ; and you see 
those people? They are loitering about to see him drive away.” 

Even as he spoke, two resplendent creatures, in gray and gold, 
resembling beef-eaters toned down in color and gilded, advanced 


THE RIVALS. 


145 


to the archway of the hotel, with long trumpets in their hands. 
These they suddenly lifted, and then down the quiet street sound- 
ed a loud /a?^are, which was very much like those announcements 
that tell us, in an historical play, that the king approaches. Then 
a vehicle drove away from the door; the high sheriff had gone 
to the Cathedral ; while our breakfast was not even yet finished. 

“ He does not have the trumpets sounded every time he leaves 
the hotel ?” said the lieutenant, returning from the window. 
“ Then why when he goes to church ? Is it exceptional for a 
high sheriff to go to church, that he calls attention to it with 
trumpets ?” 

At this moment Arthur entered the room. He glanced at us 
all rather nervously. There was less complaisance, too, in his 
manner than when we last saw him ; the soothing influences of 
dinner had departed. He saluted us all in a somewhat cool way, 
and then addressed himself exclusively to my lady. For Bell he 
had scarcely a word. 

It is hard to say how Queen Tita managed, as we left the hotel, 
to attach Bell and herself to Master Arthur; but such was the 
result of her dexterous manoeuvres; and in this fashion we hur- 
riedly walked along to the Cathedral. There was a great com- 
motion visible around the splendid building. A considerable 
crowd had collected to see the high sheriff, and policemen were 
keeping a lane for those who wished to enter. Seeing that we 
were late, and that the high sheriff was sure to draw many after 
him, we scarcely expected to get inside ; but that, at least, was 
vouchsafed us, and presently we found ourselves slipping quietly 
over the stone flooring. All the seats in the body of the building 
being occupied, we took up a position by one of the great pillars, 
and there were confronted by a scene sufficiently impressive to 
those of us who had been accustomed to the ministrations of a 
small parish church. 

Far away before us rose the tall and graceful lines of the archi- 
tecture, until, in the distance, they were lost in a haze of sunlight 
streaming in from the south — a glow of golden mist that struck 
upon the northern pillars, throwing up a vague reflection that 
showed us something of the airy region in which the lines of the 
great arches met. We could catch a glimpse, too, of the white- 
dressed choir beyond the sombre mass of the people that filled 
the nave. And when the hushed, deep tones of the organ prelude 
10 


146 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


had ceased to sound along the loftly aisles, there rose the distant 
and plaintive chanting of the boys, then the richer tones of the 
bass came in, and then again burst forth that clear, sweet, tri- 
umphant soprano, that seemed to be but a single voice ringing 
softly and distantly through the great building. I knew what 
would occur then. Somehow Tita managed to slip away from 
us, and get into the shadow of the pillar, with her head bent down, 
and her hand clasped in Bell’s; and the girl stood so that no 
one should see her friend’s face, for there were tears running fast 
down it. It is a sad story, that has been already briefly men- 
tioned in these memoranda. Many years ago she lost a young 
brother, to whom she was deeply attached. He used to sing in 
the choir of the village church. Now, whenever she listens to a 
choir singing that she cannot see, nothing will convince her that 
she does not hear the voice of her brother in the clear, distant 
music ; and more than once it has happened that the uncontrolla- 
ble emotions caused by this wild superstition have thoroughly un- 
nerved her. For days after, she has been haunted by the sound 
of that voice, as if it had brought her a message from the other 
world — as if she had been nearly vouchsafed a vision that had 
been somehow snatched away from her, leaving behind an unex- 
plained longing and unrest. Partly on that account, and^rtly 
by reason of the weariness produced by const^bt standing, we 
were not sorry to slip out of the Cathedral when the first portion 
of the service was over ; and so we found ourselves once more in 
the sweet air and the sunlight. 

There was an awkward pause. Tita rather fell behind, and en- 
deavored to keep herself out of sight ; while the other members 
of the party seemed uncertain as to how they should attach them- 
selves. Fortunately, our first movement was to go round and in- 
spect the eurious remains of the old Cathedral, which are yet visi- 
ble ; and as these were close at hand, we started off in a promis- 
cuous manner, and got round and under King Edgar’s tower with- 
out any open rupture. 

How still and quiet lay the neighborhood of the great church 
on this beautiful Sunday morning! It seemed as if all the life 
of the place were gathered within that noble building ; while out 
here the winds from over the meadows, and the sunlight, and the 
fleecy clouds overhead, were left to play about the strange old pas- 
sages, and sunken arches, and massive gate-ways, and other relics 


THE RIVALS. 


147 


of former centuries. The bright light that lay warm on the fresh 
grass, and on the ivied walls about, lighted up the flaky red sur- 
face of the old tower, and showed us the bruised efiigy of King 
Edgar in sharp outline ; while through the gloom of the arch- 
way we could see beyond the shimmering green light of a mass 
of elms, with their leaves moving in the sun. From thence we 
passed down to the river wall, where the lieutenant read aloud the 
following legend inscribed near the gate: “On the 18th of No- 
vember, 1770, the Flood rose to the lower edge of this Brass 
Plate, being ten inches higher than the Flood which happened on 
December 23d, 1672.” And then we went through the arch, and 
found ourselves on the banks of the Severn, with its bridges and 
boats and locks, and fair green meadows, all as bright and as 
cheerful as sunlight could make them. 

Tita and myself, I know, would at this moment have given a 
good deal to get away from these young folks and their affairs. 
What business of ours was it that there should be a “ third wheel 
to the cart,” as the Germans say? Arthur was sadly out of 
place ; but how could we help it ? My lady having fallen rather 
behind as we started on our leisurely stroll along the river. Bell, 
the lieutenant, and Arthur were forced to precede us. The poor 
girl was almost silent between them. Von Rosen was pointing 
out the various objects along the stream ; Arthur, in no amiable 
mood, throwing in an occasional sarcastic comment. Then more 
silence. Arthur breaks away from them and honors us with his 
company. Sometimes he listens to what my lady says to him ; 
but more often he does not, and only scowls at the two young 
folks in front of us. He makes irrelevant replies. There is a 
fierceness in his look. I think at this moment he would have 
been glad to have embraced Mormonism, or avowed his belief in 
Strauss, or done anything else desperate and wicked. 

Why, it was natural to ask, should this gentle little woman by 
my side be vexed by these evil humors and perversities — her vex- 
ation taking the form of a profound compassion, and a desire 
that she could secure the happiness of everybody ? The morning 
was a miracle of freshness. The banks of the Severn, once you 
leave Worcester, are singularly beautiful. Before us were islands, 
set amidst tall river weeds, and covered with thick growths of 
bushes. A gray shimmering of willows came in as a line be- 
tween the bold blue of the stream and the paler blue and white 


148 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


of the sky. Some tall poplars stood sharp and black against the 
light green of the meadows behind ; and far away these level and 
sunlit meadows stretched over to Malvern Chase and to the thin 
line of blue hill along the horizon. Then the various boats, a 
group of richly colored cattle in the fields, a few boys bathing 
under the shadow of a great bank of yellow sand — all went to 
make up as bright and pretty a river-picture as one could wish 
for. And here we were almost afraid to speak, lest an incau- 
tious word should summon up thunder-clouds and provoke an 
explosion. 

“ Have you any idea when you will reach Scotland ?” says Ar- 
thur, still glaring at the lieutenant and his companion. 

“ No,” replies Tita ; “ we are in no hurry.” 

“Won’t you get tired of it?” 

“ I don’t think so at all. But if we do, we can stop.” 

“You will go through the Lake Country, of course?” 

“Yes.” 

“It is sure to be wet there,” said the young man. 

“You don’t give us much encouragement,” says my lady, 
gently. 

“Oh,” he replies, “if people break away from the ordinary 
methods of enjoying a holiday, of course they must take their 
chance. In Scotland you are sure to have bad weather. It al- 
ways rains there.” 

Arthur was determined that we should look upon the future 
stages of our journey with the most agreeable anticipations. 

“ Then,” he says, “ suppose your horses break down ?” 

“ They won’t,” says Tita, with a smile. “ They know they are 
going to the land of oats. They will be in excellent spirits all 
the way.” 

Master Arthur went on to add, 

“ I have always found that the worst of driving about with 
people was that it threw you so completely on the society of cer- 
tain persons ; and you are bound to quarrel with them.” 

“ That has not been our experience,” says my lady, with that 
gracious manner of hers which means much. 

Of course she would not admit that her playful skirmishes 
with the person whom, above all others, she ought to respect, 
could be regarded as real quarrels. But at this point the lieu- 
tenant lingered for a moment to ask my lady a question ; and as 


THE RIVALS. 


149 


Bell also stopped and turned, Tita says to him, with an air of 
infinite amusement, 

“We have not quarrelled yet. Count Von Rosen?” 

“ I hope not, madame,” says our Uhlan, respectfully. 

“ Because,” she continued, with a little laugh, “ Arthur thinks 
we are sure to disagree, merely on account of our being thrown 
so much into each other’s company.” 

“ I think quite the opposite will be the result of our society,” 
says the lieutenant. 

“ Of course I did not refer particularly to you,” said Arthur, 
coldly. “ There are some men so happily constituted that it is 
of no consequence to them how they are regarded by their com- 
panions. Of course they are always well satisfied.” 

“And it is a very good thing to be well satisfied,” says the 
lieutenant, cheerfully enough, “and much better than to be ill 
satisfied and of much trouble to your friends. I think, sir, when 
you are as old as I, and have been over the world as much, you 
will think more of the men who are well satisfied.” 

“ I hope my experience of the world,” says Arthur, with a cer- 
tain determination in his tone, “ will not be gained by receiving 
pay to be sent to invade a foreign country — ” 

“Oh, Count Von Rosen,” says Bell, to call his attention. 

“Mademoiselle!” he says, turning instantly towards her, al- 
though he had heard every word of Arthur’s speech. 

“Can you tell me the German name of that tall pink flower 
down by the edge of the water?” 

And so they walked on once more ; and we got farther away 
from the city — with its mass of slates and spires getting faint 
in the haze of the sunlight — and into the still greenness of 
the country, where the path by the river-side lay through deep 
meadows. 

It was hard, after all. He had come from London to get 
speech of his sweetheart, and he found her walking through green 
meadows with somebody else. No mortal man — and least of all 
a young fellow not confident of his own position, and inclined to 
be rather nervous and anxious — could suffer this with equanim- 
ity ; but, then, it was a question how far it was his own fault. 

“Why don’t you go and talk to Bell ?” says my lady to him, 
in a low voice. 

“ Oh, I don’t care to thrust my society on any one,” he says 


150 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

aloud, with an assumption of indifference. “ There are people 
who do not know the difference between an old friendship and a 
new acquaintance ; I do not seek to interfere with their tastes. 
But of course there is a meaning in everything. What are those 
lines of Pope’s — 

“ ‘ Oh say, what stranger cause, yet unexplored, 

Could make a gentle belle reject a lord V 

I should not attempt to cure a woman of her instinctive liking 
for a title.” 

Tita placed her hand on his arm. After all, this excited young 
man was an old friend of hers ; and it seemed a pity to see him 
thus determined to ruin his own cause. But the light talking 
we heard in front seemed to say that the “ gentle Belle ” had not 
overheard that pretty speech and its interesting quotation. 

At length, coming to a sudden bend in the river, the lieutenant 
and his companion proposed that we should rest for a while ; and 
accordingly we chose out comfortable seats on the steep green 
bank, covered by bushes and trees, which here slopes down to the 
stream. The picture that lay before and around us was sufficient 
to have calmed the various moods and passions of these young 
folks, if they had but had eyes for anything but their own affairs. 
Bell was the only one who paid attention to the world of bright 
colors that lay around. The lieutenant — imperturbable, easy in 
manner, and very attentive to her — was nevertheless obviously on 
the watch, and certain to resent any remark that might by chance 
miss him and glance by towards her. Certainly, these were not 
comfortable conditions for a pleasant walk. Tita afterward de- 
clared that she was calculating with satisfaction that she had al- 
ready got through several hours of that terrible day. 

The sun was shining far away on the blue Malvern hills. Along 
the level meadows the lines of pollard willows were gray and sil- 
very in the breezy light. Close at hand the rich masses of green 
were broken by the red sandstone bank opposite; while the tall 
trees above sent straggling duplicates of themselves — colored in 
deep chocolate-brown — down into the lazy stream that flowed be- 
neath us. And as we sat there and listened for the first ominous 
observation of one or another of these young folks, lo ! there 
glided into the clear white and blue channel of the river a gayly 
bedizened barge that gleamed and glittered in the sunlight, and 


THE RIVALS. 


151 


sent quivering lines of color down into the water. The horse 
came slowly along the road. The long rope nistled over the 
brushwood on the bank, and splashed on the surface of the stream. 
The orange and scarlet bands of the barge stole away up and 
through that world of soft greenness that lay under the shadow 
of the opposite bank ; and then the horse, and rope, and driver 
turned the corner of a field, and we saw them no more. 

The appearance of the barge had provoked attention and se- 
cured silence. When it was gone the lieutenant turned carelessly 
to Arthur, and said, 

“ Do you go back to London to-morrow ?” 

“ I don’t know,” said the young man, gloomily. 

“It is such a pity you can’t come with us, Arthur,” says Bell, 
very gently, as if begging for a civil reply. 

“ I have no doubt you will enjoy yourselves very well,” he re- 
plies, with a certain coldness in his tone. 

“ We have hitherto,” she says, looking down ; “ the weather 
has been so good — and — and the scenery was so pleasant — and 
— and — ” 

It was Arthur himself, singularly enough, who came to the res- 
cue, little knowing that he was affording her such relief. 

“ I don’t think you have chosen the right road,” he remarked. 
“ The real reminiscences of the old stage-coach days you will find 
on the York and Berwick road to Scotland. I never heard of any 
one going to Scotland this way.” 

“ Why,” says one of the party, with a laugh that seemed to 
startle the stillness around, “ that is the very reason we chose it.” 

“ I have been thinking for some time,” he says, coldly, “ of get- 
ting a dog-cart and driving up the old route to Scotland.” 

The heavens did not fall on him. Queen Tita looked at the 
tips of her gloves, and said nothing ; but Bell, having less of scep- 
ticism about her, immediately cried out, 

“ Oh, Arthur, don’t do that ; it will be dreadfully wretched for 
you, going away on such an excursion by yourself.” 

But the young man saw that his proposal — I will swear it had 
never entered his brain before that very minute — had produced an 
effect, and treated it as a definite resolve. 

“ At least, if you are going, you might as well come with us, or 
meet us farther on, where the roads join,” says Bell. 

“ No, I am not so mad as to go your way,” he replied, with an 


152 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


air of disdain. “I shall keep out of the rainy districts, and I 
mean to go where one can find traces of the old times still hang- 
ing about.” 

“ And pray,” I venture to ask him, “ are all the old inns con- 
fined to one part of this unfortunate country ? And were there 
no ways of getting to Scotland but by York and Berwick ? Why, 
over the whole country there is a net-work of routes along which 
stage-coaches used to run. And if you should be tired of driving 
alone, you can do no better than strike across country from York 
by the old coach-road that comes on to Penrith, and so go up with 
us through Carlisle and Moffat on to Edinburgh.” 

“ I am not so sure that I shall go alone,” he said, quite fiercely. 

What did the boy mean ? Was he going to drive a white ele- 
phant about the country ? 

“ Do you know much of the management of horses ?” says the 
lieutenant, meaning no harm whatever. 

“Arthur is in the volunteer artillery — the field artillery, do 
they call it ? — and of course he has to manage horses,” explains 
my lady. 

“ Oh, you are a volunteer ?” said the lieutenant, with quite an 
accession of interest. “That is a very good thing. I think all 
the young men of this country would do much good to their 
health and their knowledge by being volunteers and serving a 
time of military service.” 

“ But we don’t like compulsion here,” says Arthur, bluntly. 

“ That,” retorts the lieutenant, with a laugh, “ is why you are 
at present a very ill-educated country.” 

“At all events,” says Arthur, rather hotly, “ we are educated 
well enough to have thrown aside the old superstitions of feudal- 
ism and divine right, and we are too well educated to suffer a des- 
potic government and a privileged aristocracy to have it all their 
own way.” 

“ Oh, you do talk of Prussia, yes ?” said the count. “ Well, we 
are not perfect in Prussia. We have many things to learn and 
to do, that we might have done if we had been preserved round 
about by the sea, like you. But I think we have done very well, 
for all that : and if we have a despotic government, which I do 
not think, it is perhaps because what is good for England is not 
always good for every other country ; and if we have an aristoc- 
racy, they work for the country just like the sons of the peasants. 


THE RIVALS. 


153 


when they go into the army, and get small pay, instead of going 
abroad like your aristocracy, and gambling away their fortunes to 
the Jews and the horse-dealers, and getting into debt and making 
very much fools of themselves.” 

“ When we of this country,” says Arthur, proudly, “ see the 
necessity of military preparations, we join the ranks of a body 
that accepts no pay, but is none the less qualified to fight when 
that is wanted.” 

“ Oh, I do say nothing against your volunteers. No, on the con- 
trary, I think it is an excellent thing for the young men. And 
it would be better if the service was continuous for one, two, or 
three years, and they go away into barrack life, and have much 
drill and exercise in the open air, and make the young men of the 
cities hardy and strong. That would be a very good army then, 
I think ; for when the men are intelligent and educated, they have 
less chance of panic — which is the worst that can happen in a 
battle — and they will not skulk away, or lose their courage, be- 
cause they have so much self-respect. But I do not know wheth- 
er this is safer — to have the more ignorant men of the peasantry 
and country people who will take their drill like machines and go 
through it all, and continue firing in great danger, because they 
are like machines. Now, if you had your towns fighting against 
the country, and if you had your town volunteers and your coun- 
try regiments with the same amount of instruction, I think the 
country troops would win, although each man might not have as 
much patriotism and education and self-respect as in the town 
soldiers. Because the country troops would march long distances 
— and would not be hurt much by rain or the sleeping out at 
night — and they would go through their duties like machines 
when the fight commenced. But your city volunteers — they have 
not yet got anything like the training of your regular troops that 
come from the country villages and towns.” 

“ I know this,” says Arthur, “ that if there was to be an inva- 
sion of this country by Prussia, a regiment of our city volunteers 
would not be afraid to meet a regiment of your professional sol- 
diers, however countrified and mechanical they may be — ” 

“Ah, but that is a great mistake you make,” says the lieuten- 
ant, taking no notice of the challenge ; “our soldiers are not of 
any single class — they are from all classes, from all towns, and 
villages, and cities alike — much more like your volunteers than 


154 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


your regular soldiers, only that they have some more drill and ex- 
perience than your volunteers. And what do you say of an inva- 
sion ? I have heard some people talk of that nonsense, but only 
in England. Is it that you are afraid of invasion that you imag- 
ine these foolish things, and talk so much of it ?” 

“ No, we are not afraid of it — ” says Arthur, evidently casting 
about for some biting epigram. 

“ Yet no one in all Europe speaks or thinks of such a thing but a 
few of your people here, who give great amusement to us at home.” 

“ There would be amusement of another sort going,” says Ar- 
thur, getting a little red. 

And just at this instant, before he has time to finish the sen- 
tence, Tita utters a little scream. A stone has splashed into the 
stream beneath us. The author of the menace is unknown — be- 
ing probably one of a gang of young rascals hidden behind the 
bushes on the other side of the river — but it is certainly not an- 
ger that dwells in my lady’s bosom with regard to that concealed 
enemy. He has afforded her relief at a most critical moment; 
and now she prevents Arthur returning to the subject by propos- 
ing that we should walk back to Worcester; her suggestion be- 
ing fully understood to be a command. 

We set out. The lieutenant wilfully separates himself from 
Bell. He joins us elderly folks on the pretence of being much 
interested in this question of Volunteer service — and Bell and 
Arthur are perforce thrown together. They walk on in front of 
us, in rather an embarrassed way. Bell’s looks are cast down ; 
Arthur speaks in a loud voice, to let us know that he is only talk- 
ing about the most commonplace affairs. But at the first stile 
we go through, they manage to fall behind ; and when, at inter- 
vals, we turn to see how the river and the meadows and the 
groves of trees look in the sunshine, we find the distance between 
us and the young couple gradually increasing, until they are but 
two almost undistinguishable figures pacing along the banks of 
the broad stream. 

“ Well, we have got so far over the day !” said my lady, with a 
sigh. “ But I suppose we must ask him to dine with us.” 

“ Is it necessary, madame ?” says the lieutenant. “ But perhaps 
you might ask him to bring better manners with him.” 

“ I am afraid he has been very rude to you,” said Tita, with 
some show of compunction. 


THE RIVALS. 


155 


“ To me ? No. That is not of any consequence whatever, hut 
I did think that all this pleasant walk has been spoiled to made- 
moiselle and yourself by — by what shall I say ? — not rudeness, 
but a fear of rudeness. And yet, what reason is there for it ?” 

“I don’t know,” was the reply, uttered in rather a low voice. 
“ But I hope Bell is not being annoyed by him now.” 

You see, that was the way in which they had got to regard this 
unfortunate youth — as a sort of necessary evil, which was to be 
accepted with such equanimity as Heaven had granted to the va- 
rious sufferers. It never occurred to them to look at the matter 
from Arthur’s point of view, or to reflect that there was probably 
no more wretched creature in the whole of England than he was 
during this memorable Sunday. 

Consider how he spent the day. It was the one day on which 
he would have the chance of seeing Bell for an unknown period. 
He comes round in the morning to find her sitting at breakfast 
with his rival. He accompanies them on a walk into the coun- 
try ; finds himself “ the third wheel to the cart,” and falls behind 
to enjoy the spectacle of seeing her walk by the side of this other 
man, talking to him and sharing with him the beautiful sights 
and sounds around. Ye who have been transfixed by the red- 
hot skewers of jealousy, think of the torture which this wretched 
young man suffered on this quiet Sunday morning. Then, as he 
walks home with her, he finds her, as we afterward learn, annoyed 
about certain remarks of his. He explains in a somewhat saucy 
manner, and makes matters worse. Then he takes to reproaches, 
and bids her reflect on what people will say ; and here again he 
goes from one blunder to another in talking in such a fashion 
to a proud and high-spirited girl, who cannot suffer herself to be 
suspected. In this blindness of anger and jealousy, he endeavors 
to asperse the character of the lieutenant — he is like other offi- 
eers — every one knows what the Prussian officers, in general, 
are — what is the meaning of this thing, and the dark suspicion 
suggested by that. To all of these representations Bell replies 
with some little natural warmth. He is driven wild by her de- 
fence of his rival. He declares that he knows something about 
the lieutenant’s reputation ; and then she, probably with a little 
paleness in her face, stands still, and asks him calmly to say what 
it is. He will not. He is not going to carry tales. Only, when 
an English lady has so little care of what people may say as to 


156 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


accept this foreign adventurer as her companion during a long 
journey — 

That was all that Bell subsequently told Tita. The boy was 
obviously mad and reckless, but none the less he had wrought 
such mischief as he little dreamed of in uttering these wild com- 
plaints and suspicions. When we got back to the hotel, he and 
Bell had overtaken us, and they had the appearance of not being 
on the best of terms. In fact, they had maintained silence for 
the last quarter of an hour of the walk. 

My lady asked Arthur to dine with us at seven ; so that dur- 
ing the interval he was practically dismissed. Seven came, and 
Arthur appeared. He was in evening dress ; conveying a rebuke 
to uncouth people like ourselves, who were in our ordinary trav- 
elling costume. But Bell’s seat was vacant. After we had waited 
a few minutes. Queen Tita went to inquire for her, and in a few 
minutes returned. 

‘‘ Bell is very sorry, but she has a headache, and would rather 
not come down to dinner.” 

Arthur looked up with an alarmed face ; the lieutenant scowl- 
ed ; and Tita, taking her seat, said she was afraid we had walked 
too far in the morning. Strange. If you had seen our Bell 
walking lightly up to the top of Box Hill, and running down 
again — just by way of amusement before lunch — you would not 
have expected that a short walk of a mile or two along a level 
river-course would have had such an effect. But so it was ; and 
we had dinner before us. 

It was not an enlivening meal ; and the less said about it, the 
better. Arthur talked much of his driving to Scotland in a dog- 
cart, and magnified the advantages of the York route over that 
we were now following. It is quite certain that he had never 
thought of such a thing before that morning ; but the attention 
that had been drawn to it, and the manner in which he had been 
led to boast of it, promised actually to commit him to this piece 
of folly. The mere suggestion of it had occurred at the impulse 
of a momentary vexation ; but the more he talked of it, the more 
he pledged himself to carry out his preposterous scheme. Tita 
heard and wondered, scarcely believing ; but I could see plainly 
that the young man was determined to fulfil his promise, if only 
by way of triumphant bravado, to show his independence of us, 
and perhaps inspire Bell with envy and regret. 


THE RIVALS. 


157 


When he left that night, something was said about his coming 
to see us away on the following morning. Tita had shown her 
usual consideration in not referring at all to our drive of the next 
day, which she understood was to be through the most charming 
scenery. And when, that same night, she expressed a vague de^ 
sire that we might slip away on the next morning before Arthur 
had come, it was with no thought of carrying such a plan into 
execution. Perhaps she thought with some pity of the young 
man who, after seeing us drive away again into the country, and 
the sweet air, and the sunlight, would return disconsolately to his 
dingy rooms in the Temple, there to think of his absent sweet- 
heart, or else to meditate that wild journey along a parallel line 
which was to show her that he, too, had his enjoyments. 

[^Note. — I find that the remarks which Queen Titania appended to the fore- 
going pages when they were written have since been torn off ; and I can 
guess the reason. A few days ago I received a letter, sent under cover to 
the publishers, which bore the address of that portion of the country famil- 
iarly called “ the Dukeries,” It was written in a feminine hand, and signed 
with a family name which has some historical pretensions. Now these were 
the observations which this silly person in high places had to communicate : 
“ Sir^ I hope you will forgive my intruding myself upon ymt in this way ; hut 
1 am a'nxious to know whether you really think living with such a woman as 
your wife is represented to is really a matter for raillery and amusement. 
My object in writmg to you is to say that, if you can treat lightly the fact of a 
vnfe being waspish at every turn, cuffing her boys'’ ears, and talking of whipping, 
it would have been better not to have made your extraordinary eompLauance pub- 
lic ; for what is to prevent the most ill-tempered woman pointing to these pages, 
and saying that that is how a reasonable husband would deal with her ? If it 
is your misfortum to have an ill-tempered wife, you ought not to try to persuade 
people that you are rather proud of it. Pray forgive my writing thus frankly 

to you ; and I am, sir, your obedient servant, .” By a great 

mischance I left this lying letter open on the breakfast-table ; and Tita, com- 
ing in, and being attracted by the crest in gold and colors on the paper, took 
it up. With some dismay, I watched her read it. She let it down — stood 
irresolute for a moment, with her lips getting rather tremulous — then she 
suddenly fled into the haven she had often sought before in her troubles, and 
looking up with the clear brown eyes showing themselves frightened and 
pained, like those of some dumb creature struck to the heart, she said, “ Is 
it true ? Am I really ill-tempered ? Do I really vex you very much ?” You 
may be sure that elderly lady up in Nottinghamshire had an evil quarter of 
an hour of it when we proceeded to discuss the question, and when Queen 
Tita had been pacified and reassured. “ But we ought to have known,” she 
said. “ Count Von Rosen warned us that stupid persons would make the 
mistake. And to say that I cuffed my boys’ ears ! Why, you know that 
even in the Magazine it says that I cuffed the boys and kissed them at the 
same time — of course, in fun — and I threatened to whip the whole house — 
of course, in fun, you know, when everybody was in good spirits about going 
away — and now that wicked old woman would make me out an unnatural 
mother, and a bad wife, and I don’t know what ! I — I — I will get Bell to 


158 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


draw a portrait of her, and put it in an exhibition — that would serve her 
right.” And forthwith she sat down and wrote to the two boys at Twicken- 
ham, promising them I know not what luxuries and extravagances when they 
came home for the Easter holidays. But she is offended with the public, all 
through that gabbling old lady in Notts ; and will have no more communica- 
tion with it, at least for the present.] 


CHAPTER XIII. 

SAVED ! 

“ Unto the great Twin Brethren 
We keep this solemn feast. 

Swift, swift the great Twin Brethren 
Came spurring from the east !” 

Castor and Pollux did us notable service that morning at 
Worcester. Arthur was coming round to see Bell before we 
started. Queen Tita was oppressed by anxious fears ; and de- 
clared that now the great crisis had come, and that the young 
man from Twickenham would demand some pledge from Bell as 
he bade her good-bye. The dread of this danger drove the kind- 
ly little woman into such exaggerations of his misconduct of yes- 
terday that I began to wonder if this Arthur were really the same 
lad she used to pet and think so much of when he came down to 
Leatherhead and dawdled with my lady and Bell along the Surrey 
lanes of an evening. What had changed him since then ? 

“You are pleased to be profound,” says Tita, abruptly. 

Well, I was only pointing out to her that one of the chief 
accomplishments of life is consideration for the sick ; and that 
w'hereas nearly all women seem to have an inherited instinct that 
w^ay, men only acquire the habit as the result of experience and 
reflection. Indeed, with most women, the certain passport to 
their interest and kindliness is to be unwell and exact a great deal 
of patient service from them. Now — I was saying to Tita, when 
she uttered that unnecessary rebuke — why don’t women show the 
same consideration to those who are mentally ailing? — to the un- 
fortunate persons whose vexed and irritated brain renders them 
peevish and ill-tempered ? Once get a patient down with fever, 
and all his fractious complainings are soothed, and all his queru- 
lous whims are humored. But when the same man is rendered a 
little insane by meeting with a disappointment — or if he is una- 


SAVED ! 


159 


ble to stand being crossed in argument, so that the mildest state- 
ment about some such contested subject as the American War, 
Governor Eyre, or the Annexation of Alsace, sends a flash of 
flame through his head — why should not the like allowance be 
made for his infirmities? Why should the man who is ill-tem- 
pered because of a fever be humored, caressed, and coaxed ; and 
the man who is ill-tempered because his reason is liable to attacks 
of passion, be regarded as an ill-conditioned boor, not fit for the 
society of well-bred ladies and gentlemen. 

“ I think,” says Tita, with a little warmth, “ you do nothing 
now but try to invent excuses for Arthur. And it is not fair. 
I am very sorry for him if he is so vexed that he loses his tem- 
per ; but that does not excuse his being absolutely rude.” 

“ But his rudeness is part of his ailment,” I venture to say. 
“ Ordinarily, he is the mildest and gentlest of young men, who 
would shrink from a charge of rudeness as the worst thing you 
could urge against him. At present he is off his head. He does 
not know what he says — or rather, he is incapable of controlling 
his utterances. He is really sick with a fever — though it isn’t 
one of those, apparently, that secure the commiseration of even 
the most angelic of women.” 

I regarded that last expression as rather effective ; but no. My 
lady remarked that she was not accustomed to the treatment of 
the insane ; and that another day such as that she had just pass- 
ed would soon make her as ill as himself. 

Our Bonny Bell did not seem so disturbed as might have been 
expected. When we went down to the coffee-room we found 
the lieutenant and her sitting at opposite sides of a small table, 
deeply engaged over a sheet of paper. On our entrance the doc- 
ument was hastily folded up and smuggled away. 

“ It is a secret,” said the lieutenant, anticipating inquiry. 
‘‘You shall not know until we are away on our journey again. 
It is a packet to be opened in a quiet place — no houses near, no 
persons to listen ; and then — and then — ” 

“ Perhaps it will remain a secret ? Bien ! Life is not long 
enough to let one meddle with secrets; they take up so much 
time in explanation, and then they never contain anything.” 

“But this is a very wonderful thing,” said the lieutenant, 
“ and vou must hurrv to get away from Worcester that you shall 
hear of it,” 


160 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


We were, however, to have another sealed packet that morning. 
Master Arthur, knowing full well that he would have but little 
chance of speaking privately with Bell, had intrusted his thoughts 
to a piece of paper and an envelope ; and just as we were in the 
hurry of departure, the young man appeared. The truth was, the 
lieutenant had ordered the horses to be put in some quarter of an 
hour before the time we had said we should start ; and my lady 
showed so much anxiety to set forth at once that I saw she hoped 
to leave before Arthur came. 

The phaeton stood in the archway of the hotel, and on the 
stone steps were flung the rugs and books. 

“ My dear,” says Tita, rather anxiously, to Bell, “ do get in ! 
The horses seem rather fresh, and — and — ” 

“ Won’t you wait to bid good-bye to Arthur?” says Bell. 

“ It is impossible to say when he will come — he will under- 
stand — I will leave a message for him,” says Queen Titania, all 
in a breath; and with that the lieutenant assists Bell to get up 
in front. 

I have the reins in my hands, awaiting orders. The last rugs 
are thrown up, books stowed away, everything in readiness ; 
Tita takes her seat behind, and the lieutenant is on the point of 
getting up. 

At this moment Arthur comes round the corner, is amazed for 
a moment to see us ready to start, and then suddenly brings out 
a letter. 

“ Bell,” he says, “ I — I have — there is something here I want 
you to see — only a moment, and you can give me an answer now 
— yes or no — ” 

The unfortunate young man was obviously greatly excited ; his 
face quite pale, and his speech rapid and broken. He handed up 
the letter : the crisis that Tita had endeavored to avoid had come. 
But in this our darkest hour — as I have already hinted — Castor 
and Pollux came to the rescue. It was the battle of the Lake 
Regillus acted once again in the gate-way of the Worcester Star 
Hotel. For Pollux, casting his head about and longing to start, 
managed to fix his bit on the end of the pole ; and, of course, a 
wild scene ensued. Despite the efforts of the hostler, the horse 
threw himself back on his haunches; the phaeton described a 
curve, and was driven against the wall with a loud crash; the 
people about fled in every direction, and the lieutenant jumped 


SAVED ! 


161 


out and sprung to the horses’ heads. Pollux was still making vi- 
olent eflEorts to extricate himself, and Castor, having become ex- 
cited, was plunging about ; so that for a moment it seemed as 
though the vehicle would be shattered in pieces against the wall 
of the court. The women were quite still, except that Tita utter- 
ed a little suppressed cry as she saw the lieutenant hanging on to 
the rearing horses. He stuck manfully to their heads, and, with 
the assistance of the hostler, at last managed to get the bit off. 
Then both horses sprung forward. It would have been impossi- 
ble to have confined them longer in this narrow place. The lieu- 
tenant leaped in behind ; and the next moment the phaeton was 
out in the main street of Worcester, both horses plunging and 
pulling so as to turn all eyes towards us. Certainly, it was a 
good thing the thoroughfare was pretty clear. The great Twin 
Brethren, not knowing what diabolical occurrence had marked 
their setting-out, were speeding away from the place with might 
and main; and with scarcely a look at Worcester we found 
ourselves out in the country again, amidst quiet and wooded 
lanes, with all the sweet influences of a bright summer morning 
around us. 

“ I hope you are not hurt,” said my lady to the lieutenant, who 
was looking about to see whether the smash had taken some of 
the paint off, or done other damage. 

“ Oh, not in the least, madame,” he said, “ but I find that one 
of my boots is cut, so that I think the shoe of the horse must 
have done it. And has he caught on the pole before ?” 

“ Only once,” she says. 

“ Then I would have the bit made with bars across, so that it 
will be more difficult; for suppose this did happen in the road, 
and there was a ditch, and he backed you — ” 

“ I suppose we should go over,” remarked Queen Tita, philo- 
sophically. “But it is strange how often accidents in driving 
might occur, and how seldom they do occur. But we must real- 
ly have the bit altered.” 

“ Well,” I say to my gentle companion, “ what message did 
you leave with Arthur?” 

“ I could not leave any,” said Bell, “ for of course when the 
horses went back, he had to get out of their way. But he will 
understand that I will write to him.” 

“Have you read the letter?” 


162 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ No.” 

“ Do, like a good girl, and have it over. That is always the 
best way. You must not go into this beautiful country that lies 
ahead with a sort of cloud over you.” 

So Bell took out the letter, and furtively opened it. She read 
it carefully over, without uttering a word; then she continued 
looking at it for a long time. 

“ I am very glad that accident occurred,” she remarked, in a 
low voice. “ He said I was to answer ‘ yes ’ or ‘ no.’ I could 
not do that to such a letter as this ; and if I had refused, he would 
have been very much hurt. I will write to him from whatever 
place we stop at to-night.” 

This resolution seemed greatly to comfort her. If any expla- 
nation were needed, it was* postponed until the evening ; and in 
the mean time we had fine weather, fresh air, and all the bright 
colors of an English landscape around us. Bell rapidly resumed 
her ordinary good spirits. She begged to have the reins; and 
when these had been handed over to her, with various cautions, 
the excitement of driving a pair of horses that yet showed con- 
siderable signs of freshness brought a new color into her cheeks. 
The route which we now followed was one of the prettiest we 
had yet met with. Instead of following the old stage-coach 
route by Droitwich, we struck almost due north by a line of small 
and picturesque villages lying buried in the heart of this deeply 
wooded country. The first of these was Ombersley — a curious 
little clump of cottages, nearly all of which were white, with black 
bars of wood-work crossed and recrossed ; and they had odd ga- 
bles, and lattices, and decorations, so that they looked almost like 
toy-cottages. Wearing white and black in this prominent way, 
our Uhlan immediately claimed them as Prussian property ; but 
beyond the fact of their showing the Prussian colors, there was 
little else foreign-looking about those old-fashioned English houses 
lying along this level lane, and half hidden amidst elms. As we 
got up into the higher ground above Ombersley we found around 
us a very pleasant landscape ; and it seemed to strike my gentle- 
eyed companion that the names of the villages around had been 
chosen to accord with the tender and sylvan beauties of this pret- 
ty piece of country. One of the sign-posts we passed had in- 
scribed on it, “To Doverdale and Hampton Lovett.” Then in 
the neighborhood are Elmley Lovett, Elmbridge, Crossway Green, 


SAVED ! 


163 


and Gardeners’ Grove ; while down between these runs Doverdale 
Brook, skirting Westmoor Park, the large house of which we 
could see as a faint blue mound amidst the general leafage. The 
country, which is flat about Ombersley, gets more undulating 
about Hartlebury and on towards Kidderminster. The roads 
wind up and down gentle hills, with tall and ruddy banks of sand 
on each side, which are hanging with every variety of wild flower 
and way-side weed. On both hands dense woods come down to 
these tall and picturesque banks ; and you drive through an at- 
mosphere laden with moist and resinous scents. 

It was fortunate for us, indeed, that before starting we had 
lived for a time in town ; for all the various perfumes of the 
hedges and flelds came upon us with a surprise. Every now and 
again, on these cool and breezy mornings, we would drive past a 
hay-fleld, with the fresh and sweet odors blowing all around ; or 
perhaps it was a great clump of wild-rose bushes that fllled the 
air with delicate scent. Then the lime-trees were in flower ; and 
who does not know the delight of passing under the boughs la- 
den with blossom, when the bees are busy overhead ? More rare- 
ly, but still frequently enough in this favored country, a whiff of 
honeysuckle was borne to us as we passed. And if these things 
sweetened the winds that blew about us, consider what stars of 
color refreshed the eye as we drove gently past the tall hedge- 
rows and borders of woods — the golden rock-roses, purple patches 
of wild thyme, the white glimmering of stitchwort and campion, 
the yellow spires of the snap-dragon, and a thousand others. And 
then, when we ceased to speak, there was no blank of silence. 
Away over the hay-field the lark floated in the blue, making the 
air quiver with his singing ; the robin, perched on a fence, looked 
at us saucily, and piped a few notes by way of remark; the black- 
bird was heard, flute-throated, down in the hollow recesses of the 
woods ; and the thrush, in a holly-tree by the way-side, sung out 
his sweet, clear song, that seemed to rise in strength as the wind 
awoke a sudden rustling through the long woods of birch and oak. 

Well, touching that sealed packet ?” says my lady, aloud. 

“ Oh no, madame,” replies the lieutenant. “ This is not the 
time for it. If I must tell you the truth, it is only a drinking- 
song I have been trying to remember of a young Englishman 
who was at Bonn with me; and mademoiselle was so good this 
morning as to alter some of the words. But now ? — a drinking- 


164 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OP A PHAETON. 


song in this fine, quiet country ? — no. After we have got to Kid- 
derminster, and when we drive away after lunch, then mademoi- 
selle will play for you the air I did show to her, and I will sing 
you the song. All what is needed is that you drink some Rhine 
wine at Kidderminster to make you like the song.” 

“Kidderminster Rhine wine!” exclaims one of the party, wdth 
a groan. He knows that whatever is suggested now by the lieu- 
tenant finds favor with a clear majority of the party. 

“ That was a very good young fellow,” continues the lieuten- 
ant, as we drive over a high slope, and come in view of a mass of 
manufactories. “ Very big and strong he was ; we did call him 
der grosse Englander always ; and one time, in the winter, when 
there was much snow, we had a supper-party at his room. We 
had many duels then, for we were only boys, but the Englishman 
was not supposed to be challenged, for he knew nothing of our 
swords, but he was always ready to fight with his fists, for all 
that. And this evening, I am afraid we did drink too much beer, 
and young Schweitzer of Magdeburg — he died at Koniggratz, the 
unfortunate, in ’66 — he was very angry with the Englander for 
laughing at his sweetheart, who was but a young lady in a school 
there. And he challenged the Englishman, and went up to him, 
and said he would not go away until there was a fight; and do 
you know what your countryman did? He lifted Schweitzer up 
in his arms, like a baby, and carried him down the stairs, and 
opened the door, and put him in the snow outside, very gently. 
There was so much laughing over that, that we all said it was 
very good ; and Schweitzer was grown sober by the cool of the 
snow ; and he laughed too, and I think they swore bruderschaft 
about it afterward. Oh, he was a very clever fellow, your coun- 
tryman, and had more delight in our songs than any German I 
ever knew. But do you know how that is ?” 

Madame said it was no wonder any one should be in love with 
the German songs ; but the lieutenant shook his head. 

“ That is not it at all : no. This is it — that when you know 
only a little of a language, you do not know what is common- 
place in it. The simple phrase which is commonplace to others 
that is all full of meaning to you. So I find it with your Eng- 
lish. You would laugh if I told you that I find much meaning 
in poetry that you think only good for children, and in old-fash- 
ioned writing, which looks affected now. Because, madame, is it 


SAVED ! 


165 


not true that all commonplace phrases meant some new thing 
at one time ? It is only my ignorance that I do not know they 
have grown old and worth little. Now the evening at Twicken- 
ham I did hear you go over the names of old-fashioned English 
songs, and much fun was made of the poetry. But to me that 
was very good — a great deal of it — because nothing in English is 
to me commonplace as yet.” 

“ How fortunate you must be !” says one of us, with a sigh. 

“You laugh when you say, '‘Flow on^ thou shining river P 
Why ? The river flows ; and it shines. I see a clear picture out 
of the words — like the man who wrote them ; I am not accus- 
tomed to them so as to think them stupid. Then I saw you 
laugh when some one said, '‘I dreamt that I dwelt in marble halls.'' 
I did read that song; and although it is stupid that the man 
thinks he will live in marble halls, I found much tenderness in 
it. So with this young Englishman. He knew nothing of what 
was commonplace in our language. If you gave him children’s 
rhymes, he looked at the meaning, and judged it all by that. 
And when we showed him stiff, artificial verses of old times, he 
seemed to go back to the time when they were written, and be- 
lieve much in them, and like them. That is a very good thing 
in ignorance, I think — when you know not much of a language, 
and every word has much meaning in it, and there is no common- 
place anywhere.” 

This lecture of the lieutenant took us into Kidderminster. 
What married man is not familiar with the name, held up to 
him as an awful threat in reply to his grumblings about the 
price of Turkey and Brussels carpets? As we drove into the 
busy town, signs of the prevailing manufacture were everywhere 
apparent in the large red -brick factories. We put up at The 
Lion, and while Yon Rosen went off to buy himself a new pair 
of boots, we went for a stroll up to the interesting old church, 
the fine brasses and marble monuments of which have drawn 
many a stranger to the spot. Then we climbed to the top of 
the tower, and from the zinc roof thereof had a spacious view 
over the level and wooded country, which was deeply streaked by 
bands of purple, where the clouds threw their shadows. Far be- 
low us lay the red, busy, smoky town, set amidst green fields; 
while the small river ran through it like a black snake, for the 
bed had been drained, and in the dark mud a multitude of boys 


166 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


could be seen wading, scooping about for eels. When we de- 
scended, Von Rosen had got his boots, and was prowling about 
the church-yard, reading the curious inscriptions there. One of 
them informed the world of the person laid beneath that, “ added 
to the character of a Gentleman, his actions were coeval with his 
Integrity, Hospitality, and Benevolence.” But our amiable guide, 
who had pointed out to us all the wonderful features of Kidder- 
minster and its neighborhood, evidently looked on one particular 
gravestone as the chief curiosity of the place ; for this, he in- 
formed us, was placed over a man who had prepared the vault 
and the inscription ten years before his death. Here is the 
legend : 

“ To the Memory of 
John Orton, 

A Man from Leicestershire, 

And when he is dead he must lie under Here.” 

The man from Leicestershire was not “ alone among mortals ” 
in anticipating his end in this fashion, but no matter. A man 
may well be allowed to humor himself in the way of a tomb- 
stone ; it is the last favor he can ask from the world. 

“ Now,” said the lieutenant, as we drove away from this man- 
ufacturing town into the fresh country again, “ shall I sing you 
the song which the young Englishman used to sing for us, or 
shall we wait until the evening ?” 

“ Now, by all means,” said Bell ; “ and if you will be so good as 
to give me out the guitar, I will try to play you an accompaniment.” 

“ A guitar accompaniment to a drinking-song !” says Titania. 

“ Oh, but this is not a drinking-song, exactly, madame ; it is 
a very moral song; and we shall discuss each verse as it goes 
along, and you will make alterations of it.” 

So he got out the guitar. We were now far away from any 
houses — all around us great woods, that lay dark and green under 
a clouded afternoon sky. The road was very hilly ; and some- 
times, from the summit of a great height, we caught a glimpse of 
a long western stretch of country, lying blue and misty under the 
gray sky. Behind us, Kidderminster looked like a dusky red 
splatch in a plain of green ; and all around it the meadows and 
fields were low and intense in color. But then in the west we 
could see an occasional glimpse of yellow in the pall of cloud; 
and we hoped the sunset would break through the veil. 


SAVED ! 


167 


“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said the lieutenant, “ the song I am 
about to sing to you — ” 

Here Bell began to play a light prelude ; and without further 
introduction our Uhlan startled the silence of the woods and 
fields by singing, in a profound and melancholy voice, the first 
two verses of the ballad composed by the young Englishm an at 
Bonn, which ran somewhat as follows : 

“ Oh, Burgundy isn’t a good thing to drink, 

Young man, I beseech you, consider and think, 

Or else in your nose, and likewise in your toes, 

You’ll discover the color of Burgundy rose : 

Burgundy rose. Burgundy rose, 

A dangerous symptom is Burgundy rose. 

“ ’Tis a very nice wine, and as mellow as milk, 

’Tis a very nice color, in satin or silk ; 

But you’ll change your opinion as soon as it shows 
In a halo around the extreme of your nose : 

Burgundy rose. Burgundy rose, 

Is a very bad thing at the tip of your toes.” 

“Well, madame, how do you like it so far as we have got?” 
says the lieutenant, as Bell is extemporizing a somewhat wild 
variation of the air. 

“ I think your young English friend gave you very good ad- 
vice ; and I have no doubt the students needed it very much.” 

“ But you shall hear what he says ; he was not a teetotaller 
at all.” 

And therewith the lieutenant continued : 

“ If tipple you must in beer, spirits, or wine. 

There are wholesome vintages hail from the Rhine ; 

And take the advice of a fellow who knows, 

Hochheimer’s as gentle as any that goes — 

Burgundy rose. Burgundy rose. 

Doth never appear from the wine I propose. 

“ Oh, Burgundy isn’t a good thing to drink. 

Young man, I beseech you, consider and think. 

Or else in your nose, and likewise in your toes. 

You’ll discover the color of Burgundy rose: 

Burgundy rose. Burgundy rose, 

A fatal affliction is Burgundy rose !” 

“ Oh, you two scapegraces !” cried Queen Titania. “ I know 
now why you were laying your heads together this morning, and 
poring over that sheet of paper ; you were engaged in perverting 


168 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


an honest and well-intentioned song into a recommendation of 
German wines. I am sure that third verse is not in the original. 
I am certain the young English student never wrote it. It was 
written in Worcester this very morning; and I call on you to 
produce the original, so that we may cut out this very bad moral 
that has been introduced.” 

“ The original, madame ?” said the lieutenant, gravely. “ There 
is no original. I have repeated it most from memory, as he used 
to sing it at Bonn, and I put it down on paper only that made- 
moiselle might correct me about the words. No, I have put in 
no moral. You think your countryman did not like the Rhine 
wines ? Pfui ! you should have seen him drink them then, if he 
did not like them ! And the very dear ones, too, for he had plen- 
ty of money ; and we poor devils of the Germans used to be as- 
tonished at his extravagance, and sometimes he was called ‘ mi- 
lord’ for a joke. When we did go to his room to the supper- 
parties, we could not believe that any young man not come of 
age should have so much money given to him by his parents. 
But it did not spoil him one bit ; he was as good, frank, careless, 
as any man, and when he did get to know the language better he 
worked hard, and had such notes of the lectures as not any one, 
I think, in the whole university had.” 

A strange thing now occurred. We were diving along level 
and wooded lanes, running parallel with the Severn. The small 
hamlets we passed, merely two or three houses smothered in 
elms, are appropriately named greens — Fen Green, Dodd’s Green, 
Bard’s Green, and the like, and on either side of us were lush 
meadows, with the cattle standing deep in the grass. Now all 
at once that long bar of glimmering yellow across the western 
clouds burst asunder; and at the same moment a glare of light 
shone along the southern sky, where there was evidently abun- 
dant rain. We had no sooner turned to look at this flood of 
golden mist, than all around us there was a stir in the hedges and 
the tall elms by the road-side — we were enveloped in sunshine. 
With it came a quick pattering on the leaves ; and then we found 
the air glittering with white drops and slanting streaks. In the 
wild glare of the sunlight the shower shone and sparkled around 
us, and the heavier it fell — until the sound of it was like the hiss- 
ing of the sea on a pebbly beach — the more magical grew the ef- 
fects of the mingled light and wet. Nor was it a passing shower 


SAVED ! 


169 


merely. The air was still filled with the gleaming lines of the 
rain, the sunlight still shone mistily through it and lighted up 
the green meadows and the trees with a wonderful radiance, as 
we wrapped cloaks round our companions and drove leisurely on. 
It was impossible to think that this luminous rain could wet us 
like ordinary rain. But by-and-by it drew itself off ; and then 
Bell, with a sudden little cry, besought the lieutenant to pull up 
the horses. 

Had we driven under a cloud, and escaped at the other edge ? 
Close behind us there was still mingled rain and sunlight, but 
beyond that again the sky was heaped up with immense dark- 
blue masses. A rainbow shone in front of this black back- 
ground. A puff of white cloud ran across the darkness, telling 
of contrary winds. And then when we turned from this gleam- 
ing and glowing picture to continue our course, lo ! all the west 
had cleared, and a great dim smoke of yellow lay over the land, 
where the sky came down. 

“ It is like the sea, is it not ?” said Bell, rising up in the phae- 
ton and steadying herself to look into this distant world of gold. 
“ Don’t you expect to find the masts of ships, and sea-birds flying 
about, out there ?” 

And then, in the cool and fresh evening, with the dusk coming 
on, we drove up to the valley of the Severn, by Quat and Quat- 
ford, towards our resting-place for the night. As we passed by 
Quatford Castle, the river, lying amidst the dark meadows, had 
caught a glow of crimson fire from the last reflection of the sun- 
set. A blue mist lay about the sides of the abrupt hill on which 
the town of Bridgenorth is pitched ; but as we wound round the 
hill to gain the easiest ascent, we came again into the clear, metal- 
lic glow of the west. It was a hard pull on the horses, just at the 
end of their day’s work, was this steep and circuitous ascent ; but 
at length we got into the rough streets of the old town, and in 
the fading twilight sought out the yellow and comfortable glow 
of The Crown Hotel. 

We had got, in passing, a vague glimpse of a wide space around 
an old town -house, with a small crowd of people collecting. 
They had come to hear the playing of a Volunteer band. There- 
fore, as we sat down to dinner, we had some very good music be- 
ing played to us from without ; and when at last it was gone, and 
the quaint old town on the top of the hill left to its ordinary si- 


170 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

lence, we found it was time to light our cigars and open the be- 
zique-box. 

Probably no one noticed it ; but it is a curious circumstance 
that Bell had apparently forgotten all about her determination to 
write to Arthur. There was no shadow of a cloud on her face, 
and she enjoyed the winning of various games — assisted thereto 
by the obvious ministrations of the lieutenant — with as much de- 
light and careless amusement as though there was not anywhere 
in the world a young man sitting in his solitary chamber and 
wishing that he had never been born. But it was certainly not 
hard-heartedness that gave to Bell the enjoyment of that one 
evening. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 

“ But (trust me, gentles !) never yet 
Was dight a masquing half so neat, 

Or half so rich before ; 

The country lent the sweet perfumes, 

The sea the pearl, the sky the plumes, 

The town its silken store.” 

The lieutenant was pensive. He and I had gone out for a 
turn before breakfast, and wandered on to the high promenade 
which, skirting one portion of the lofty town, looked down on 
the valley of the Severn, the huddled houses underneath the rocky 
height, and the bridge spanning the stream. It was a bright and 
cool morning ; and the landscape that lay around was shining in 
the sun. 

“ England,” he said, leaning his arms on the stone parapet of 
the walk, “ is a very pleasant country to live in, I think.” 

I thanked him for the compliment. 

“You are very free in your actions here: you do what you 
please. Only consider how you are at this moment.” 

But I had to protest against our young Prussian friend contin- 
ually regarding this excursion as the normal condition of our ex- 
istence. I showed him that we were not always enjoying our- 
selves in this fashion ; that a good deal of hard work filled the 
long interval of the winter months ; and that even Bell — whom 
he had grown to regard as a sort of feature of English scenery, 


A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 


171 


a wild bird forever on the wing through sunlight and green leaves 
- — worked as hard as any of us. 

“ It is pleasant to be able to play dexterously on the piano, or 
the guitar, or what not, but that accomplishment means imprison- 
ment with hard labor stretching over years. It is very nice to be 
able to put on a sheet of paper, with a few rapid touches, the out- 
lines of a scene which delights you, and to find yourself able to 
reproduce this afterward in water or oil, and have it publicly ex* 
hibited and sold ; but do you know how much work it involves ? 
Bell is a most untiring young woman, I promise you, and not 
likely to fall asleep in counting her fingers.” 

“Oh, I am sure of that,” he said, absently. “She has too 
much spirit, too much life, to be indolent. But I was thinking — 
I was thinking whether, if a man was to change his country, he 
would choose England out of all the other countries to live in. 
Here it is. Your people in England who only enjoy themselves 
must be very rich, must they not ? Is it a good country, I won- 
der, for a man who would have about eight hundred pounds a 
year ?” 

“ Not without some occupation. But why do you ask ?” 

He only stared at the bushes down below us on the rocks, and 
at the river far below them. 

“What would you say,” he asked, suddenly, “if I were to 
come and live in England, and become naturalized, and never go 
back to my native country again ?” 

“And give up your profession, with all its interest and excite- 
ment ?” 

He was silent for a minute or two ; and then he said, 

“ I have done more than the service that is expected from ev- 
ery man in Prussia ; and I do not think my country goes to war 
for many years to come. About the excitement of a campaign 
and the going into battle — well, there is much mistake about 
that. You are not always in enthusiasm ; the long marches, the 
wet days, the waiting for months in one place — there is nothing 
heroic in that. And when you do come to the battle itself — 
Come, my dear friend, I will tell you something about that.” 

He seemed to wake up then. He rose from his recumbent po- 
sition and took a look round the shining country that lay along 
the valley of the Severn. 

“All the morning before the battle,” said the lieutenant, “you 


172 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


have great gloom ; and it seems as if the day is dark overhead. 
But this is strange — that you think you can see very far, and you 
can see all your friends in Germany, and think you could almost 
speak to them. You expect to go forward to meet the enemy ; 
and you hate him that he is waiting for you upon some of the 
hills or behind his intrenchments. Then the hurry comes of get- 
ting on horseback ; and you are very friendly to all your compan- 
ions; and they are all very pleasant and laughing at this time, 
except one or two who are thinking of their home. Your regi- 
ment is ordered forward : you do not know what to think : per- 
haps you wish the enemy would run away, or that your regiment 
is not needed, and sometimes you have great wish of anger tow- 
ards him ; but all this is shifting, gloomy, uncertain, that you 
do not think two things one moment. Then you hear the sound 
of the firing, and your heart beats fast for a little while, and you 
think of all your friends in Germany ; and this is the time that 
is the worst. You are angry with all the men who provoke wars 
in their courts and parliaments ; and you think it is a shame you 
should be there to fight for them ; and you look at the pleasant 
things you are leaving all behind in your own home, just as if you 
were never to see them any more. That is a very wretched and 
miserable time, but it does not last very long if you are ordered 
to advance ; and then, my dear friend, I can assure you that you 
do not care one farthing for your own life — that you forget your 
home altogether, and you think no more of your friends ; you do 
not even hate the enemy in front any more — it is all a stir, and 
life, and eagerness ; and a warm, glad feeling runs all through 
your veins, and when the great ‘hurrah’ comes, and you ride for- 
ward, you think no more of yourself ; you say to yourself, ‘ Here 
is for my good fatherland !’ — and then — ” 

A sort of sob stuck in the throat of the big lieutenant. 

“ Bah,” said he, with a frown, as if the bright morning and the 
fresh air had done him an injury, “ what is the use of waiting out 
here, and killing ourselves with hunger ?” 

Bell was writing when we went into the hotel. As we en- 
tered, she hastily shut up her small portfolio. 

“ Why not finish your letter, mademoiselle ?” he said, gently. 
“ It will be a little time before breakfast comes in.” 

“ I can finish it afterward,” said the girl, looking rather em- 
barrassed. 


A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 


173 


Of course, when the lieutenant perceived that the attention 
thus drawn to the letter had caused her some confusion, he im- 
mediately rushed into another subject, and said to Queen Titania, 
with a fine affectation of carelessness, 

“ You will laugh, madame, at our having yet another adventure 
in a stationer’s shop.” 

“ I think,” said my lady, gravely, “ that I must put a stop to 
these wanderings -about in the early morning. I cannot quite 
make out why you should always get up hours before anybody 
else ; but I find that generally some story is revealed afterward 
of a young lady.” 

“But there is no young lady this time,” said the lieutenant, 
“ but a very worthy man whom we found in the stationer’s shop. 
And he has been at Sedan, and he has brought back the breech 
of a mitrailleuse and showed it all to us, and he has written a 
small book about his being in France, and did present us with a 
copy of it, and would not take any payment for it. Oh, he is a 
very remarkable and intelligent man to be found in a stationer’s 
shop up in this curious old town on the top of a hill ; but, then, 
I discovered he is a Scotchman, and do you not say here that a 
Scotchman is a great traveller, and is to be found everywhere? 
And I have looked into the little book, and I think it very sensi- 
ble and good, and a true account of what he has seen.” 

“ Then I presume he extols your countrymen ?” says my lady, 
with a smile. 

“Madame,” replies the lieutenant, “I may assure you of this, 
that a man who has been in a campaign and seen both the ar- 
mies does not think either army an army of angels and the other 
an army of demons. To believe one nation to have all the good, 
and another nation to have all the bad, that can only be believed 
by people who have seen none of them. I think my friend the 
stationer has written so much of what he saw, that he had no 
time for stupid imaginations about the character of two whole 
countries.” 

At this moment the introduction of breakfast broke our talk 
in this direction. After breakfast Bell finished her letter. She 
asked the lieutenant to get it stamped and posted for her, and 
handed it openly to him. But, without looking at it, he must 
have known that it was addressed to “Arthur Ashburton, Esq., 
Essex Court, Temple.” 


174 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

“ Well,” said Bell, coming down-stairs with her hat on, “ let us 
go out now and see the town. It must be a very pleasant old 
place. And the day is so fine — don’t you think we have had 
quite exceptional weather hitherto. Count Yon Rosen ?” 

Of course, he said the weather had been lovely ; but how was 
it that Bell was so sure beforehand that she would be pleased 
with Bridgenorth? The delight was already in her face and 
beaming in her eyes. She knew the weather must be fine. She 
was certain we should have a delicious drive during the day, and 
was positive the country through which we had to pass would be 
charming. The observant reader will remark that a certain letter 
had been posted. 

Really, Bridgenorth was pleasant enough on this bright morn- 
ing, albeit the streets on the river-side part of the town were dis- 
tinctly narrow, dirty, and smoky. First of all, however, we vis- 
ited the crumbling walls of Robert de Belesme’s mighty tower. 
Then we took the women round the high promenade over the 
valley. Then we went down through a curious and precipitous 
passage hewed out of the sandstone hill to the lower part of the 
town, and visited the old building in which Bishop Percy was 
born, the inscription^ on which, by-the-way, is a standing testi- 
mony to the playful manner in which this nation has from time 
immemorial dealt with its aspirates. Then we clambered up the 
steep streets again until we reached the great central square, with 
its quaint town-house and old-fashioned shops. A few minutes 
thereafter we were in the phaeton, and Castor and Pollux taking 
us into the open country again. 

“ Mademoiselle !” said the lieutenant — the young man was like 
a mavis, with this desire of his to sing or hear singing just after 
his morning meal — “ you have not sung to us anything for a long 
while now.” 

“ But I will this morning, with great pleasure,” said Bell. 

“Then,” said Yon Rosen, “here is your guitar. When I saw 
you come down to go out this morning, I said to myself, ‘ Made- 
moiselle is sure to sing to-day.’ So I kept out the guitar-case.” 


* The inscription inside the door of this old-fashioned building, which is 
ornamented by bars of black and white, and peaked gables, is as follows : 

“ Except the Lord BviLD the owse 
The Labourers thereof evail nothing 
Erected by R For * 1580.” 


A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 


175 


The horses pricked up their ears. Tlie chords of the guitar 
twanged out a few notes. The fresh breeze blew by from the 
fields ; and as we drove through the stillness of one or two strag- 
gling woods, Bell sung, 

“ If enemies oppose us, 

And England is at war 
With any foreign nation, 

We fear not wound nor scar ! 

To humble them, come on, lads ! 

Their flags we’ll soon lay low ; 

Clear the way, for the fray ; 

Though the stormy winds do blow !” 

** Mademoiselle,” cries the lieutenant, “it is a challenge.” 

Bell laughed, and suddenly altered the key. 

“ Fair Hebe I left with a cautious design ” 

— this was what she sung now — 

“ To escape from her charms and to drown love in wine ; 

I tried it, but found, when I came to depart. 

The wine in my head, but still love in my heart.” 

“Well !” said Tita, with an air of astonishment, “ that is a pretty 
song for a young lady to sing !” 

Bell laid down the guitar. 

“ And what,” I ask of Queen Titania, “ are the sentiments of 
which alone a young lady may sing? Not patriotism? Not 
love ? Not despair ? Goodness gracious ! Don’t you remember 
what old Joe Blatchers said when he brought us word that some 
woman in his neighborhood had committed suicide ?” 

“What did he say?” asked the lieutenant, with a great cu- 
riosity. 

“ The wretched woman had drowned herself because her hus- 
band had died ; and old Joe brought us the story with the serious 
remark, ‘ The ladies 'as their feelins, 'asn't they^ sir^ arter all?' 
Mayn’t a young lady sing of anything but the joy of decorating 
a church on Christmas-eve ?” 

“I have never been taught to perceive the humor of profanity,” 
says my lady, with a serene impassiveness. 

“Curious, if true. Perhaps you were never taught that a 
white elephant isn’t the same as a rainbow or a pack of cards ?” 

“ My dear,” says Tita, turning to Bell, “ what is that French 
song that you brought over with you from Dieppe ?” 


176 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Thus appealed to, Bell took up her guitar, and sung for us a very 
pretty song. It was not exactly French, to be sure. It began, 

“ ’Twas frost and thro’ leet, wid a greyming o’ snaw, 

When I went to see Biddy, the flow’r o’ them aw ; 

To meet was agreed on at Seymy’ deyke nuik, 

Where I sauntered wi’ mony a seegh and lang luik.” 

But good honest Cumbrian is quite as foreign to most of us as 
French; and no exception could be taken to the sentiment of 
Bell’s ballad, for none of us could understand six consecutive 
words of it. 

Much-Wenlock is a quiet town. It is about as quiet as the 
spacious and grassy enclosure in which the magnificent ruins of 
its old monastery stand gray and black in the sunshine. There 
are many strange passages and courts in these noble ruins ; and 
as you wander through broken arches, and over court-yards half 
hidden in the long green grass, it is but natural that a preference 
for solitude should betray itself in one or other of the members 
of a noisy little party. We lost sight of Bell and the lieutenant. 
There was a peacock strutting through the grass, and making his 
resplendent tail gleam in the sunshine ; and they followed him, I 
think. When we came upon them again. Bell was seated on a 
bit of tumbled pillar, pulling daisies out of the sward and plait- 
ing them ; and the lieutenant was standing by her side, talking to 
her in a low voice. It was no business of ours to interfere with 
this pastoral occupation. Doubtless he spoke in these low tones 
because of the great silence of the place. We left them there, 
and had another saunter before we returned. We were almost 
sorry to disturb them ; for they made a pretty group, these two 
young folks, talking leisurely to each other under the solemn 
magnificence of the great gray ruins, while the sunlight that light- 
ed up the ivy on the walls, and threw black shadows under the 
arches of the crumbling windows, and lay warm on the long grass 
around them, touched Bell’s cheek too, and glimmered down one 
side of the loose and splendid masses of her hair. 

Castor and Pollux were not allowed much time for lunch ; for, 
as the young people had determined to go to the theatre on 
reaching Shrewsbury, their elders, warned by a long experience, 
knew that the best preparation for going to a country theatre is 
to dine before setting out. My lady did not anticipate much en- 
joyment ; but Bell was positive we should be surprised. 


A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 


Ill 


“We have been out in the country so much — seeing so much 
of the sunlight and the green trees, and living at those little inns 
— that we ought to have a country theatre as well. Who knows 
but that we may have left all our London ideas of a play in Lon- 
don ; and find ourselves quite delighted with the simple folk who 
are always uttering good sentiments, and quite enraged with the 
bad man who is wishing them ill. I think Count Von Rosen was 
quite right — ” 

Of course Count Von Rosen was quite right! 

“ — about commonplace things only having become common- 
place through our familiarity with them,” continued Miss Bell. 
“ Perhaps we may find ourselves going back a bit, and being as 
much impressed by a country drama as any of the farmer-folk 
who do not see half a dozen plays in their life. And then, you 
know, what a big background we shall have ! — not the walls of 
the little theatre, but all the great landscape we have been coming 
through. Round about us we shall see the Severn, and the long 
woods, and Broadway Hill — ” 

“ And not forgetting Bourton Hill,” «ays the lieutenant. “ If 
only they do give us a good moonlight scene like that, we shall 
be satisfied.” 

“ Oh no !” said Bell, gravely — she was evidently launching into 
one of her unconscious flights, for her eyes took no more notice 
of us, but were looking wistfully at the pleasant country around 
us — “ that is asking far too much. It is easier for you to make 
the moonlight scene than for the manager. You have only to 
imagine it is there — shut your eyes a little bit, and fancy you 
hear the people on the stage talking in a real scene, with the real 
country around, and the real moonlight in the air. And then 
you grow to believe in the people ; and you forget that they are 
only actors and actresses working for their salaries, and you think 
it is a true story, like the stories they tell up in Westmoreland of 
things that have happened in the villages years ago. That is one 
of the great pleasures of driving, is it not? — that it gives you a 
sense of wide space. There is a great deal of air and sky about 
it ; and you have a pleasant and easy way of getting through it, 
as if you were really sailing ; whereas the railway whisks you 
through the long intervals, and makes your journey a succession 
of dots. That is an unnatural way of travelling, that staccato 
method of — ” 

12 


178 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

Here mademoiselle caught sight of Queen Tita gravely smiling, 
and immediately paused to find out what she had been saying. 

“Well?” she said, expecting to be corrected or reproved, and 
calmly resolved to bear the worst. 

But how could Tita explain ? She had been amused by the 
manner in which the young lady had unconsciously caught up a 
trick of the lieutenant’s in the construction of his sentences — the 
use of “ that ” as the introductory nominative, the noun coming 
in afterward. For the moment the subject dropped, in the ex- 
citement of our getting once more back to the Severn ; and when 
Bell spoke next, it was to ask the lieutenant whether the Wrekin 
— a solitary, abrupt, and conical hill on our right, which was 
densely wooded to the top — did not in a milder form reproduce 
the odd masses of rock that stud the great plain west of the Lake 
of Constance. 

A pleasant drive through a fine stretch of open country took 
us into Shrewsbury ; and here, having got over the bridge and up 
the steep thoroughfares to our hotel, dinner was immediately or- 
dered. When at length we made our way round to the theatre, it 
was about half-past seven, and the performance was to commence 
at twenty minutes to eight. 

“ Oh, Bell !” says my lady, as we enter the building. She looks 
blankly round. From the front of the dress-circle we are peering 
into a great hollow place, dimly lighted by ten lamps, each of one 
burner, that throw a sepulchral light on long rows of wooden 
benches, on a sad-colored curtain, and an empty orchestra. How 
is all the force of Bell’s imagination to drive off these walls and 
this depressing array of carpentry, and substitute for them a stage 
of greensward and walls composed of the illimitable sky ? There 
is an odor of escaped gas, and of oranges; but when did any 
people ever muster up enough of gayety to eat an orange in this 
gloomy hall ? 

7.30, by Shrewsbury clock. — An old gentleman and a boy ap- 
pear in the orchestra. The former is possessed of a bass - viol ; 
the latter proceeds to tune up a violin. 

7.40 (which is the time for commencing the play). — Three la- 
dies come into the pit. The first is a farmer’s wife, fat, ostenta- 
tious, happy in a black silk that rustles ; the two others are ap- 
parently friends of hers in the town, who follow her meekly, and 
take their seats with a frightened air. She sits down with a proud 


A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 


179 


gesture ; and this causes a thin crackle of laughter and a rude 
remark far up in the semidarkness over head, so that we gather 
that there are probably two persons in the upper gallery. 

7.45. — Two young ladies — perhaps shop-girls, but their ex- 
treme blushing gives them a countrified look — come into the pit, 
talk in excited whispers to each other, and sit down with an un- 
comfortable air of embarrassment. At this moment the orches- 
tra startles us by dashing into a waltz from “ Faust.” There are 
now five men and a boy in this tuneful choir. One of them starts 
vigorously on the cornet; but invariably fails to get beyond the 
first few notes, so that the fiute beats him hollow. Again and 
again the cornet strikes in at the easy parts ; but directly he sub- 
sides again, and the flute has it all his own way. The music 
ceases. The curtain is drawn up. The play has begun. 

The first act is introductory. There is a farmer, whose chief 
business it is to announce that “ his will is law and he has a 
son, addressed throughout as Weelyam, whom he wishes to marry 
a particular girl. The son, of course, has married another. The 
villain appears, and takes us into his confidence ; giving us to un- 
derstand that a worse villain never trod the earth. He has an 
interview with the farmer; but this is suddenly broken off — a 
whistle in some part of the theatre is heard, and we are conveyed 
to an Italian lake, all shining with yellow villas and blue skies. 

“ That is the problem stated,” said the lieutenant ; “ now we 
shall have the solution. But do you find the walls going away 
yet, mademoiselle ?” 

“ I think it is very amusing,” said Bell, with a bright look on 
her face. Indeed, if she had not brought in with her suflScient 
influence from the country to resolve the theatre into thin air, she 
had imbibed a vast quantity of good health and spirits there, so 
that she was prepared to enjoy anything. 

The plot thickens. The woman-villain appears — a lady dressed 
in deep black, who tells us in an awful voice that she was the 
mistress of Weelyam in France, that being the country natural- 
ly associated in the mind of the dramatist with crimes of this 
character. She is in a pretty state when she learns that Weelyam 
is married, and events are plainly marching on to a crisis. It 
comes. The marriage is revealed to the farmer, who delivers a 
telling curse, which is apparently launched at the upper gallery, 
but which is really meant to confound Weelyam ; then the old 


180 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


man falls — there is a tableau — the curtain comes down, and the 
band, by some odd stroke of luck, plays “ Home, sweet home,” as 
an air descriptive of Weelyam’s banishment. 

We become objects of curiosity, now that the adventures of 
the farmer’s son are removed. There are twenty-one people in 
the pit — representing conjointly a solid guinea transferred to the 
treasury. One or two gay young men with canes, and their hats 
much on the side of their heads, have entered the dress-circle, 
stared for a minute or two at the stage, and retired. 

They are probably familiar with rustic drama, and hold it in 
contempt. A good ballet, now, would be more in their way, per- 
formed by a troupe of young ladies whose names are curiously 
like English names, with imposing French and Italian termina- 
tions. A gentleman comes into the pit along with a friend, nods 
familiarly to the attendant, deposits his friend, utters a few fa- 
cetious remarks, and leaves. Can it be that he is a reporter of a 
local newspaper, dowered with the privilege of free admission for 
“ himself and one ?” There must at least be three persons in the 
upper gallery, for a new voice is heard, calling out the graceful 
but not unfamiliar name of “Polly.” One of the two rose -red 
maidens in front of us timidly looks up, and is greeted with a shout 
of recognition and laughter. She drops into her old position in a 
second, and hangs down her head ; while her companion protests 
in an indignant way in order to comfort her. The curtain rises. 

The amount of villainy in this Shrewsbury drama is really 
getting beyond a joke. We are gradually rising in the scale of 
dark deeds, until the third villain, who now appears, causes the 
other two to be regarded as innocent lambs. This new perform- 
er of crime is a highwayman ; and his very first act is to shoot 
Weelyam’s father and rob him of his money. But lo ! the French 
adventuress drops from the clouds; the highwayman is her hus- 
band ; she tells him of her awful deeds, among them of her hav- 
ing murdered “ her mistress the archduchess and then, as she 
vows she will go and murder Weelyam, a tremendous confiict of 
everybody ensues, and a new scene being run on, we are suddenly 
whirled up to Balmoral Castle. 

“ I am beginning to be very anxious about the good people,” 
remarked Tita. “ I am afraid William will be killed.” 

“ Unless he has as many lives as Plutarch, he can’t escape,” 
said Bell. 


A SHREWSBURY PLAY. 


181 


“ As for the old farmer,” observed the lieutenant, “ he survives 
apoplectic fits and pistol-shots very well — oh, very well indeed. 
He is a very good man in a play. He is sure to last to the end.” 

Well, we were near the end ; and author, carpenter, and scene- 
painter had done their dead best to render the final scene impres- 
sive. It was in a cavern. Cimmerian darkness prevailed. The 
awful lady in black haunts the gloomy by-ways of the rocks, com- 
muning with herself, and twisting her arms so that the greatest 
agony is made visible. But what is this hooded and trembling 
figure that approaches ? Once in the cavern, the hood is thrown 
off, and the palpitating heroine comes forward for a second to the 
low foot-lights, merely that there shall be no mistake about her 
identity. The gloom deepens. The young and innocent wife en- 
counters the French adventuress ; the woman who did not scruple 
to murder her mistress the archduchess seizes the girl by her hands 
— shrieks are heard — the two figures twist round one another — 
then a mocking shout of laughter, and Weelyam’s wife is precipi- 
tated into the hideous waters of the lake ! But lo ! the tread of 
innumerable feet; from aU quarters of the habitable globe stray 
wanderers arrive : with a shout Weelyam leaps into the lake, and 
when it is discovered that he has saved his wife, behold ! every- 
body in the play is found to be around him, and with weeping 
and with laughter all the story is told, and the drama ends in the 
most triumphant and comfortable manner, in the middle of the 
night, in a cavern, a hundred miles from anywhere. 

“ No,” said Queen Titania, distinctly, “ I will not stay to see 
‘ La Champagne Ballet, or the Pas de Fascination.’ ” 

So there was nothing for it but to take the ungrateful creature 
back to the hotel, and give her tea and a novel. As for the bill- 
iard-room in that hotel, it is one of the best between Holborn and 
the Canongate. The lieutenant begs to add that he can recom- 
mend the beer. 


182 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


CHAPTER XV. 

“la patrie en danger.” 

“ Sometimes on lonely mountain-meres, 

I find a magic bark ; 

I leap on board : no helmsman steers ; 

I float till all is dark.” 

I SIT down to write this chapter with a determination to be 
generous, calm, and modest in the last degree. The man who 
would triumph over the wife of his bosom merely to have the 
pleasure of saying “ I told you so,” does not deserve to have his 
path through life sweetened by any such tender companionship. 
Far be it from me to recall the earnest protestations which my 
lady affixed to the first portion of this narrative. Not for worlds 
would I inquire into her motives for being so anxious to see Ar- 
thur go. The ways of a woman ought to be intricate, occult, per- 
plexing, if only to preserve something of the mystery of life 
around her, and to serve her, also, as a refuge from the coarse and 
rude logic of the actual world. The foolish person who, to prove 
himself right, would drive his wife into a corner and demonstrate 
to her that she was wrong; that she had been guilty of small 
prevarications, of trifling bits of hypocrisy, and of the use of vari- 
ous arts to conceal her real belief and definite purpose — the man 
who would thus wound the gentle spirit by his side to secure the 
petty gratification of proving himself to have been something of 
a twopenny-half-penny prophet — But these remarks are pre- 
mature at the present moment, and I go on to narrate the events 
which happened on the day of our leaving Shrewsbury, and get- 
ting into the solitary region of the meres. 

“ I have received a telegram from Arthur,” says Bell, calmly ; 
and the pink sheet is lying on the breakfast-table before her. 

“ How did you get it ?” says my lady, with some surprise. 

“ At the post-office.” 

“ Then you have been out ?” 

“ Yes, we went for a short walk, after having waited for you,” 
gays Bell, looking down. 


183 


“la patrie en danger.” 

“Oh, madame,” says the lieutenant, coming forward from the 
fireplace, “ you must not go away from the town without seeing 
it well. It is handsome, and the tall poplars down by the side 
of the river, they are worth going to see by themselves.” 

“ It was very pretty this morning,” continued Bell, “ when the 
wind was blowing about the light-blue smoke, and the sun was 
shining down on the slates and the clumps of trees. We went to 
a height on the other side of the river, and I have made a sketch 
of it — ” 

“ Pray,” says my lady, regarding our ward severely, “ when 
did you go out this morning?” 

“ Perhaps about an hour and a half ago,” replies Bell, careless- 
ly ; “I don’t exactly know.” 

“ More than that, I think,” says the lieutenant, “ for I did 
smoke two cigars before we came back. It is much to our credit 
to get up so early, and not anything to be blamed of.” 

“ I am glad Bell is improving in that respect,” retorts my lady, 
with a wicked smile ; and then she adds, “ Well ?” 

“ He has started,” is the reply to that question. 

“ And is going by another route ?” 

“ Yes : in a dog-cart — by himself. Don’t you think it is very 
foolish of him, Tita? You know what accidents occur with those 
dog-carts.” 

“Mademoiselle, do not alarm yourself,” says the lieutenant, 
folding up his newspaper. “It is quite true what madame said 
yesterday, that there are so many accidents in driving, and so 
very seldom any one hurt. You ask your friends — yes, they 
have all had accidents in their riding and driving ; they have all 
been in great danger, but what have they suffered? Nothing! 
Sometimes a man is killed — yes, one out of several millions in 
the year. And if he tumbles over — which is likely if he does 
not know much of horses and driving — what then ? No, there is 
no fear ; we shall see him some day very well, and go on all to- 
gether 1” 

“ Oh, shall we ?” says my lady, evidently regarding this as a 
new idea. 

“Certainly. Do you think he goes that way always? Im- 
possible. He will tire of it. He will study the roads across to 
meet us. He will overtake us with his light little dog-cart, We 
shall have his company along the road,” 


184 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Tita did not at all look so well satisfied with this prospect of 
meeting an old friend as she might have done. 

“And when are you to hear from him next?” I inquire of 
mademoiselle. 

“ He will either write or telegraph to each of the big towns 
along our route, on the chance of the message intercepting us 
somewhere ; and so we shall know where he is.” 

“ And he has really started ?” 

Bell placed the telegram in my hands. It was as follows : 

'‘'‘Have set out hy Hatfield^ Huntingdon^ and York^for Edin- 
burgh. Shall follow the real old coach-road to Scotland^ and am 
certain to find much entertainment.'" 

“ For man and beast,” struck in the lieutenant. “And I know 
of a friend of mine travelling in your country who went into one 
of these small inns, and put up his horse, and when they brought 
him in his luncheon to the parlor, he only looked at it and said, 
‘ Very good^ waiter; this is very nice ; hut where is the entertain- 
ment for the man ” 

I continued to read the telegram aloud : 

"Shall probably be in Edinburgh before you ; but will tele- 
graph or write to each big town along your route^ that you may 
let me know where you are." 

“ It is very obliging,” says the lieutenant, with a shrug of his 
shoulders. 

“ It is quite certain,” observes my lady, with decision, “ that he 
must not accompany us in his dog-cart ; for we shall arrive at 
plenty of inns where they could not possibly put up three horses 
and so many people.” 

“ It would have been so,” said the lieutenant, “ at the place on 
the top of the hill — Bourton was it called, yes ?” 

The mere notion of Arthur coming in to spoil the enjoyment 
of that rare evening was so distressing that we all took refuge 
in breakfast, after which we went for a long and leisurely stroll 
through Shrewsbury ; and then had Castor and Pollux put into 
the phaeton. It seemed now to us to matter little at what town 
we stayed. We had almost begun to forget the various points 
of the journey. It was enough that some hospitable place — 
whether it were city, town, or hamlet — afforded us shelter for the 
night, that on the next morning we could issue forth again into 
the sweet-smelling country air, and have all the fair green world 


185 


‘‘la patrie en danger.” 

to ourselves. We looked with a lenient eye upon the great hab- 
itations of men. What if a trifle of coal-smoke hung about the 
house-tops, and that the streets were not quite so clean as they 
might be? We suffered little from these inconveniences. They 
only made us rejoice the more to get out into the leafy lanes, 
where the air was fresh with the scent of the bean-fields and the 
half-dried hay. And when a town happened to be picturesque — 
and it was our good fortune to find a considerable number of 
handsome cities along our line of route — and combined with its 
steep streets, its old-fashioned houses, and its winding river and 
banks, a fair proportion of elms and poplars scattered about in 
clumps to mar the monotony of the gray fronts and the blue slates, 
we paid such a tribute of admiration as could only be obtained 
from people who knew they would soon be emancipated from the 
din and clamor, the odor and the squalor, of thoroughfares and 
pavements. 

Bell, sitting very erect, and holding the whip and reins in the 
most accurate and scientific fashion, was driving us leisurely up 
the level and pleasant road leading from Shrewsbury to Ellesmere. 
The country was now more open and less hilly than that through 
which we had recently come. Occasionally, as in the neighbor- 
hood of Harmer Hill, we drove by long woods ; but for the most 
part our route lay between spacious meadows, fields, and farms, 
with the horizon around lying blue and dark under the distant 
sky. The morning had gradually become overcast, and the va- 
rious greens of the landscape were darkened by the placid gray 
overhead. There was little wind, but a prevailing coolness that 
seemed to have something of premonitory moistness in it. 

But how the birds sung under the silence of that cold gray 
sky ! We seemed to hear all the sounds within a great compass, 
and these were exclusively the innumerable notes of various war- 
blers — in the hedges, and in the road -side trees, far away in 
woods, or hidden up in the level grayness of the clouds: Tewi, 
tewi, trrrr-weet! — droom^ droom, phloee ! — tucJc, tuck, tuck, tuck, 
/ — that was the silvery chorus from thousands of throats, and, 
under the darkness of the gray sky, the leaves of the trees and 
the woods seemed to hang motionless in order to listen. Now 
and then Bell picked out the call of a thrush or a blackbird from 
the almost indistinguishable mass of melody ; but it seemed to 
us that all the fields and hedges had but one voice, and that it 


186 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


was clear and sweet and piercing, in the strange silence reigning 
over the land. 

So we rolled along the unfrequented road, occasionally passing 
a way-side tavern, a farm-house, or a cluster of cottages, until about 
noon we caught a glimpse of a stretch of gray water. On this 
lonely mere no boat was to be seen, nor any house on its banks, 
merely a bit of leaden-colored water placed amidst the soft and 
low-lying woods. Then we caught the glimmer of another sheet 
of cold gray, and by-and-by, driving under and through an avenue' 
of trees, we came full in sight of Ellesmere. 

The small lake looked rather dismal just then. There was a 
slight stirring of wind on its surface, which destroyed the reflec- 
tion of the woods along its shores, so that the water was pretty 
much the counterpart of the gloomy sky above. At this mo- 
ment, too, the moisture in the air began to touch our faces, and 
everything portended a shower. Bell drove us past the mere 
and on to the small village, where Castor and Pollux were safely 
lodged in the stables of The Bridgewater Arms. 

We had got into shelter just in time. Down came the rain 
with a will ; but we were unconcernedly having luncheon in a 
long apartment which the landlord had recently added on to his 
premises. Then we darted across the yard to the billiard-room, 
where, Bell and my lady having taken up lofty positions in or- 
der to overlook the tournament, we proceeded to knock the balls 
about until the shower should cease. 

The rain, however, showed no symptoms of leaving off, so we 
resolved to remain at Ellesmere that night, and the rest of the af- 
ternoon was spent in getting up arrears of correspondence and sim- 
ilar work. It was not until after dinner that it was found the rain- 
clouds had Anally gathered themselves together, and then, when 
we went out for a stroll, in obedience to Bell’s earnest prayer, the 
evening had drawn on apace. 

The darkening waters of the lake were now surrounded by low 
clouds of white mist, that hung about the still and wet woods. 
From the surface of the mere, too, a faint vapor seemed to rise, 
so that the shores on the other side had grown dim and vague. 
The trees were still dropping large drops into the plashing road ; 
runnels of water showed how heavy the rain had been ; and it 
seemed as if the gray and ghostly plain of the lake were still 
stirred by the commotion of the showers. The reflection of a 


187 


“la patrie en danger.” 

small yacht out from the shore was blurred and indistinct; and 
underneath the wooded island beyond there only reigned a deeper 
gloom on the mere. 

Of course, no reasonable person could have thought of going 
out in a boat on this damp evening ; but Bell having expressed 
some wish of the kind, the lieutenant forthwith declared we 
should soon have a boat, however late the hour. He dragged us 
through a wet garden to a house set amidst trees by the side of 
the lake. He summoned a worthy woman, and overcame her 
wonder and objections and remonstrances in about a couple of 
minutes. In a very short space of time we found ourselves in a 
massive and unwieldy punt, out in the middle of the gray sheet 
of water, with the chill darkness of night rapidly descending. 

“ We shall all have neuralgia, and rheumatism, and colds to- 
morrow,” said my lady, contentedly. “And all because of this 
mad girl, who thinks she can see ghosts wherever there is a little 
mist. Bell, do you remember — ” 

Tita stopped suddenly, and grasped my arm. A white some- 
thing had suddenly borne down upon us, and not for a second 
or two did we recognize the fact that it was merely a swan, bent 
on a mission of curiosity. Far away beyond the solitary animal 
there now became visible a faint line of white, and we knew that 
there the members of his tribe were awaiting his report. 

The two long oars plashed in the silence, we glided onward 
through the cold mists, and the woods of the opposite shore were 
now coming near. How long we floated thus, through the 
gloomy vapors of the lake, I cannot tell. We were bent on no 
particular mission ; and somehow the extreme silence was grate- 
ful to us. But what was this new light that was seen to be steal- 
ing up behind the trees, a faint glow that began to tell upon the 
sky, and reveal to us the conformation of the clouds ? The mists 
of the lake deepened, but the sky lightened, and we could see 
breaks in it, long stripes of a soft and pale yellow. The faint suf- 
fusion of yellow light seemed to lend a little warmth to the damp 
and chill atmosphere. Bell had not uttered a word. She had 
been watching this growing light with patient eyes, only turning 
at times to see how the island was becoming more distinct in the 
darkness. And then more and more rapidly the radiance spread 
up and over the south-east, the clouds got thinner and thinner, 
until all at once we saw the white glimmer of the disk of the 


188 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


moon leap into a long crevice in the dark sky. And lo ! all the 
scene around us was changed ; the mists were gradually dispersed 
and driven to the shores; the trees on the island became sharp 
black bars against a flood of light ; and on the dark bosom of the 
water lay a long lane of silver, intertwisting itself with millions 
of gleaming lines, and flashing on the ripples that went quivering 
back from the hull of our boat. We were floating on an en- 
chanted lake, set far away amidst these solitary woods. 

“ Every day, I think,” said Bell, “ we come to something more 
beautiful in this journey.” 

“ Mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant, suddenly, “ your country 
it has been too much for me. I have resolved to come to live here 
always ; and in flve years, if I choose it, I shall be able to be nat- 
uralized, and consider England as my own country.” 

The moonlight was touching softly at this moment the out- 
lines of Bell’s face, but the rest of the face was in shadow, and 
we could not see what evidence of surprise was written there. 

“You are not serious?” she said. 

“ I am.” 

“ And you mean to give up your country because you like the 
scenery of another country ?” 

That, plainly put, was what the proposal of the count amounted 
to, as he had expressed it ; but even he seemed somewhat taken 
aback by its apparent absurdity. 

“ No,” he said, “ you must not put it all down to one reason : 
there are many reasons, some of them important; but, at all 
events, it is sure that if I come to live in England, I shall not be 
disappointed of having much pleasure in travelling.” 

“With you it may be different,” said Bell, almost repeating 
what I had said the day before to the young man. “ I wish we 
could always be travelling and meeting with such pleasant scenes 
as this. But this holiday is a very exceptional thing.” 

“ So much the worse,” said the lieutenant, with the air of a 
man who thinks he is being hardly used by destiny. 

“ But tell me,” broke in my lady, as the boat lay in the path of 
the moonlight, almost motionless, “have you calculated the con- 
sequences of your becoming an exile ?” 

“ An exile ! There are many thousands of my countrymen in 
England ; they do not seem to suffer much of regret because they 
are exiles.” 


189 


“la patrie en danger.” 

“ Suppose we were to go to war with Germany ?” 

“ Madame,” observed the lieutenant, seriously, “ if you regard 
one possibility, why not another ? Should I not hesitate of liv- 
ing in England for fear of a comet striking your country rather 
than Germany ? No : I do not think there is any chance of ei- 
ther; but if there is a war, then I consider whether I am more 
bound to Germany or to England. And that is a question of the 
ties you may form, which may be more strong than merely that 
you chance to have been born in a particular place.” 

“ These are not patriotic sentiments,” remarks my lady, in a 
voice which shows she is pleased as well as amused by the an- 
nouncement of them. 

“ Patriotism !” he said, “ that is very good — but you need not 
make it a fetich. Perhaps I have more right to be patriotic in a 
country that I choose for my own than in a country where I am 
born without any choice of my own. But I do not find my 
countrymen, when they come to England, much troubled by such 
things : and I do not think your countrymen, when they go to 
America, consult the philosophers, and say what they would do 
in a war. If you will allow me to differ from you, madame, I do 
not think that is a great objection to my living in England.” 

An objection — coming from her ! The honest lieutenant meant 
no sarcasm ; but if a blush remained in my lady’s system — which 
is pretty well trained, I admit, to repress such symptoms of con- 
sciousness — surely it ought to have been visible on this clear 
moonlight night. 

At length we had to make for the shore. It seemed as though 
we were leaving out there on the water all the white wonder of 
the moon; but when we had run the boat into the boat-house 
and got up among the trees, there too was the strong white light, 
gleaming on black branches, and throwing bars of shadow across 
the pale-brown road. We started on our way back to the village 
by the margin of the mere. The mists seemed colder here than 
out on the water ; and now we could see the moonlight struggling 
with a faint white haze that lay over all the surface of the lake. 
My lady and Bell walked on in front ; the lieutenant was appar- 
ently desirous to linger a little behind. 

“ You know,” he said, in a low voice, and with a little embar- 
rassment, “ why I have resolved to live in England.” 

“ I can guess.” 


190 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ I mean to ask mademoiselle to-morrow — if I have the chance 
— if she will become my wife.” 

“You will be a fool for your pains.” 

“ What is that phrase ? I do not comprehend it,” he said. 

“ You will make a mistake if you do. She will refuse you.” 

“ And well ?” he said. “ Does not every man run the chance 
of that ? I will not blame her — no ; but it is better I should ask 
her, and be assured of this one way or the other.” 

“ You do not understand. Apart from all other considerations. 
Bell would almost certainly object to entertaining such a proposal 
after a few days’ acquaintanceship — ” 

“ A few days !” he exclaimed. '"'"Du Himmel ! I have known 
her years and years ago — very well we were acquainted — ” 

“But the acquaintanceship of a boy is nothing. You are al- 
most a stranger to her now.” 

“ See here,” he urged. “We do know more of each other in 
this week or two than if I had seen her for many seasons of your 
London society. We have seen each other at all times — under 
all ways — not mere talking in a dance, or so forth.” 

“ But you know she has not definitely broken off with Arthur 
yet.” 

“Then the sooner the better,” said the lieutenant, bluntly. 
“ How is it you do all fear him, and the annoyance of his com- 
ing? Is a young lady likely to have much sympathy for him, 
when he is very disagreeable, and rude, and angry ? Now, this is 
what I think about him : I am afraid mademoiselle is very sorry 
to tell him to go away. They are old friends. But she would 
like him to go away, for he is very jealous, and angry, and rude ; 
and so I go to her, and say — no, I will not tell you what my ar- 
gument is, but I hope I will show mademoiselle it will be better 
if she will promise to be my wife, and then this pitiful fellow he 
will be told not to distress her any more. If she says no — it is 
a misfortune for me, but none to her. If she says yes, then I 
will look out that she is not any more annoyed — that is quite 
certain.” 

“ I hope you don’t wish to marry merely to rescue a distressed 
damsel.” 

“ Bah,” he said, “ you know it is not that. But you English 
people, you always make your jokes about these things — not very 
good jokes either — and do not talk frankly about it. When ma- 


191 


“la patrie en danger.” 

dame comes to hear of this — and if mademoiselle is good enough 
not to cast me away — it will be a hard time for ns, I know, from 
morning until night. But have I not told you what I have com 
sidered this young lady ; so very generous in her nature, and not 
thinking of herself ; so very frank and good-natured to all people 
around her ; and of a good, light heart, that shows she can enjoy 
the world, and is of a happy disposition, and will be a very noble 
companion for the man who marries her ? I would tell you much 
more, but I cannot in your language.” 

At all events, he had picked up a good many flattering adjec- 
tives. Mademoiselle’s dowry in that respect was likely to be con- 
siderable. 

Here we got back to the inn. Glasses were brought in, and we 
had a final game of bezique before retiring for the night ; but the 
lieutenant’s manner towards Bell was singularly constrained and 
almost distant, and he regarded her occasionally in a somewhat 
timid and anxious way. 

[^Note by Qiieen Titania. — “ It is perhaps unnecessary for me to explain 
that I am not responsible for the strange notions that may enter the heads 
of two light-hearted young people when they are away for a holiday. But I 
must protest against the insinuation — conveyed in a manner which I will not 
describe — that I was throughout scheming against Arthur’s suit with our Bell. 
That poor boy is the son of two of my oldest friends ; and for himself we 
have always had the greatest esteem and liking. If he caused us a little an- 
noyance at this time, he had perhaps a sort of excuse for it — which is more 
than some people can say, when they have long ago got over the jealousies of 
courtship, and yet do not cease to persecute their wives with far from good- 
natured jests — and it is, I think, a little unfair to represent me as being blind 
to his peculiar situation, or unmerciful towards himself. On the contrary, I 
am sure I did everything I could to smooth over the unpleasant incidents of 
his visit ; but I did not find it incumbent on me to become a partisan, and 
spend hours in getting up philosophical — philosophical ! — excuses for a rude- 
ness which was really unpardonable. What I chiefly wish for, I know, is to 
see all those young folks happy and enjoying themselves ; but it would puz- 
zle vnser heads than mine to find a means of reconciling them. As for Count 
Von Rosen, if he made up his mind to ask Bell to be his wife, because El- 
lesmere looked pretty when the moon came out, I cannot help it. It is 
some years since I gave up the idea of attempting to account for the odd 
freaks and impulses that get into the heads of what I suppose we must call 
the superior sex.”] 


192 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


CHAPTER XVL 

OUR UHLAN OUT-MAN(EUVRED. 

“ Come down, come down, my bonnie bird, 

And eat bread aff my hand ; 

Your cage shall be of wiry goud, 

Whar now it’s but the wand.” 

“You are the most provoking husband I ever met with,” says 
Queen Titania. 

We are climbing up the steep ascent which leads from the vil- 
lage of Ellesmere to the site of an ancient castle. The morning 
is full of a breezy sunshine, and the cool north-wester stirs here 
and there a gray ripple on the blue waters of the lake below. 

“ I hope you have not had much experience in that direction,” 
I observe. 

“ Very pretty. That is very nice indeed. We are improving, 
are we not ?” she says, turning to Bell. 

Bell, who has a fine color in her face from the light breeze and 
the brisk walking, puts her hand affectionately within her friend’s 
arm, and says, in gentle accents, 

“ It is a shame to tease you so, you poor innocent little thing ! 
But we will have our revenge. We will ask somebody else to 
protect you, my pet lamb !” 

“ Lamb — hm ! Not much of the lamb visible, but a good deal 
of the vinegar sauce,” says one of us, mindful of past favors. 

It was a deadly quarrel. I think it had arisen out of Tita’s 
inability to discover which way the wind was blowing ; but the 
origin of our sham-fights had seldom much to do with their sub- 
sequent rise and progress. 

“ I wish I had married yow, Count Von Rosen,” says my lady, 
turning proudly and graciously to her companion on the right. 

“ Don’t alarm the poor man,” I say : and indeed the lieutenant 
looked quite aghast. 

“ Madame,” he replied, gravely, when he had recovered himself, 
“ it is very kind of you to say so ; and if you had made me the 
offer sooner, I should have accepted it with great pleasure. But 


OUR UHLAN OUT-MAN(EUVRED. 


193 


would there have been any difference? No, I think not — per- 
haps it would be the worse. It is merely that you are married ; 
and you make believe to chafe against the bonds. Now, I think 
you two would be very agreeable to each other if you were not 
married.” 

“ Ah, well,” said Tita, with an excellently constructed sigh ; “ I 
suppose we must look on marriage as a trial, and bear it with 
meekness and patience. We shall have our reward elsewhere.” 

Bell laughed in a demure manner. That calm assumption of 
the virtues of meekness and patience was a little too much ; but 
what was the use of further fighting on a morning like this? 
We got the key of a small gate. We climbed up a winding path 
through trees that were rustling in the sunlight. We emerged 
upon a beautiful green lawn — a bowling-green, in fact, girt in by 
a low hedge, and overlooked by a fancy little building. But the 
great charm of this elevated site was the panorama around and 
beyond. Windy clouds of white and gray kept rolling up out of 
the west, throwing splashes of purple gloom on the bright land- 
scape. The trees waved and rustled in the cool breeze ; the sun- 
light kept chasing the shadows across the far meadows. And 
then down below us lay the waters of Ellesmere lake — here and 
there a deep, dark blue, under the warm green of the woods, and 
here and there being stirred into a shimmer of white by the wind 
that was sweeping across the sky. 

“ And to-day we shall be in Chester, and to-morrow in Wales !” 
cried Bell, looking away up to the north, where the sky was pret- 
ty well heaped up with the flying masses of cloud. She looked 
so bright and joyous then that one could almost have expected 
her to take flight herself, and disappear like a wild bird amidst the 
shifting lights and glooms of the windy day. The lieutenant, in- 
deed, seemed continually regarding her in rather an anxious and 
embarrassed fashion. Was he afraid she might escape ? Or was 
he merely longing to get an opportunity of plunging into that 
serious business he had spoken of the night before ? Bell was all 
unconscious. She put her hand within Tita’s arm, and walked 
away over the green lawn, which was warm in the sunshine. We 
heard them talking of a picnic on this lofty and lonely spot — 
sketching out tents, archery-grounds, and what not, and assigning 
a place to the band. Then there were rumors of the “Hay- 
makers,” of “ Roger de Coverley,” of the “ Guaracha,” and I 
13 


194 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

know not what other nonsense, coming toward us as the north- 
wester blew back to us fragments of their talk, until even the 
lieutenant remarked that an old-fashioned country - dance would 
look very pretty up here, on such a fine piece of green, and with 
all the blue and breezy extent of a great English landscape form- 
ing the circular walls of this magnificent ballroom. 

A proposal is an uncomfortable thing to carry about with one. 
Its weight is unconscionable, and on the merriest of days it will 
make a man down-hearted. To ask a woman to marry is about 
the most serious duty which a man has to perform in life, even 
as some would say that it is the most unnecessary ; and those 
who settled the relations of the sexes, before or after the Flood, 
should receive the gratitude of all womankind for the ingenuity 
with which they shifted on to male shoulders this heavy and 
grievous burden. 

The lieutenant walked down with us from the hill and through 
the little village to the inn as one distraught. He scarcely even 
spoke — and never to Bell. He regarded the getting-out of the 
phaeton with a listless air. Castor and Pollux, whose affections 
he had stolen away from us through a whole series of sneaking 
kindnesses, whinnied to him in vain. When my lady, who now 
assumed the responsibility of apportioning to us our seats, asked 
him to drive on, he obeyed mechanically. 

Now our Bonny Bell, as I have said, was unconscious of the 
awful possibilities that hung over our adventures of that day ; 
and was in as merry a mood as you could desire to see. She sat 
beside the lieutenant ; and scarcely had we gone gently along the 
narrow village street and out into the broader country road that 
leads northward, than she began to tell her companion of the 
manner in which Tita tyrannizes over our parish. 

“ You would not think it, would you ?” she asked. 

“ No,” said the lieutenant, “ I should not think she was a very 
ferocious lady.” 

“ Then you don’t know her,” says a voice from behind ; and 
Tita says, “ Don’t begin again,” in an injured way, as if we were 
doing some sort of harm to the fine morning. 

“I can assure you,” said Bell, seriously, “that she rules the 
parish with a rod of iron. She knows every farthing that every 
laborer makes in the week, and he catches it if he does not bring 
home a fair proportion to his wife. ‘ Well, Jackson,’ she says, ‘ I 


OUR UHLAN OUT-MAN(EUVRED. 


195 


hear your master is going to give you fourteen shillings a week 
now/ ‘ Thank ye, ma’am,’ he says, for he knows quite well who 
secured him the additional shilling to his wages. ‘ But I want 
you to give me threepence out of it for the savings-bank ; and 
your wife will gather up sixpence a week until she gets enough 
for another pair of blankets for you, now the winter is coming 
on, you know.’ Well, the poor man dares not object. He gives 
up three-fourths of the shilling he had been secretly expecting to 
spend on beer, and does not say a word. The husbands in our 
parish have a bad time of it — ” 

“ One of them has, at least,” says that voice from behind. 

“And you should see how our Tita will confront a huge fel- 
low who is half bemused with beer, and order him to be silent in 
her presence. ‘ How dare you speak to your wife like that be- 
fore me?’ and he is as quiet as a lamb. And sometimes the 
wives have a turn of it, too — not reproof, you know, but a look 
of surprise if they have not finished the sewing of the children’s 
frocks which Tita and I have cut out for them ; or if they have 
gone into the ale-house with their husbands late on the Satur- 
day night ; or if they have missed being at church next morning. 
Then you should see the farmers’ boys playing pitch-and-toss in 
the road on the Sunday forenoons — how they scurry away like 
rabbits when they see her coming up from church — they fly be- 
hind stacks, or plunge through hedges, anything to get out of 
her way.” 

“And I am not assisted. Count Von Rosen, in any of these 
things,” says my lady, “ by a young lady who was once known 
to catch a small boy and shake him by the shoulders because he 
threw a stone at the clergyman as he passed.” 

“Then you do assist, mademoiselle,” inquires the lieutenant, 
“ in this overseeing of the parish ?” 

“ Oh, I merely keep the books,” replied Bell. “ I am the treas- 
urer of the savings-bank, and I call a fortnightly meeting to an- 
nounce the purchase of the various kinds of cotton and woollen 
stuffs, at wholesale prices, and to hear from the subscribers what 
they most need. Then we have the materials cut into patterns, 
we pay so much to the women for sewing, and then we sell the 
things when they are made, so that the people pay for everything 
they get, and yet get it far cheaper than they would at a shop, 
while we are not out of pocket by it.” 


196 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Here a deep groan is heard from the hind-seat of the phaeton. 
That beautiful fiction about the ways and means of our local char- 
ities has existed in our household for many a day. The scheme 
is admirable. There is no pauperization of the peasantry around. 
The theory is that Queen Tita and Bell merely come in to save 
the cost of distribution ; and that nothing is given away gratis 
except their charitable labor. It is a pretty theory. The folks 
round about us find it answers admirably. But somehow or oth- 
er — whether from an error in Bell’s book-keeping, or whether 
from a sudden rise in the price of flannel, or some other recon- 
dite and esoteric cause — all I know is that the system demands 
an annual subvention from the head of the house. Of course, 
my lady can explain all that away. There is some temporary de- 
fect in the working-out of the scheme ; the self-supporting char- 
acter of it remains easy of demonstration. It may be so. But 
a good deal of bread — in the shape of checks — has been thrown 
upon the waters in a certain district in England ; while the true 
author of the charity — the real dispenser of these good things — 
is not considered in the matter, and is privately regarded as a sort 
of grudging person, who does not understand the larger claims of 
humanity. 

At length we have our first glimpse of Wales. From Elles- 
mere to Overton the road gradually ascends, until, just before you 
come to Overton, it skirts the edge of a high plateau, and all at 
once you are confronted by the sight of a great valley, through 
which a stream, brown as a Welsh rivulet ought to be, is slowly 
stealing. That narrow thread that twists through spacious woods 
and green meadows is the river Dee ; far away beyond the valley 
that it waters rise the blue masses of Cyrn-y -Brain and Cefn-y- 
Fedn, while to the south of the latter range lies the gap by which 
you enter the magic vale of Llangollen. On this breezy morning 
there were white clouds blowing over the dusky peaks of the 
mountains, while ever and anon, from a blue rift overhead, a 
shimmering line of silver would strike down, and cause the side 
of some distant hill to shine in pale-brown, and gray, and gold. 

“ That is a very strange sight to me,” said the lieutenant, as 
the horses stood in the road ; “ all these great mountains, with, I 
think, no houses on them. That is the wild country into which 
the first inhabitants of this country fled when the German tribes 
swarmed over here — all that we have been taught at school ; but 


OUR UHLAN OUT-MANCEUVRED. 


197 


only think of the difficulty the Berlin boy, living with nothing 
but miles of flat sand around him, has to imagine a wild region 
like this, which gave shelter because no one could follow into its 
forest and rocks. And how are we to go? We cannot drive 
into these mountains.” 

“ Oh, but there are very fine roads in Wales,” said Bell ; “ broad, 
smooth, well-made roads ; and you can drive through the most 
beautiful scenery, if you wish.” 

However, it was arranged we should not attempt anything of 
the kind, which would take us too far out of our route to Scot- 
land. It was resolved to let the horses have a rest in Chester the 
next day, while we should take a run down by rail to Llanrwst 
and Bettws-y-Coed, merely to give our Uhlan a notion of the 
difficulties he would have to encounter in subduing this country, 
when the time came for that little expedition. 

So we bowled through the little village of Overton, and down 
the winding road which plunges into the beautiful valley we had 
been regarding from the height. We had not yet struck the 
Dee; but it seemed as though the ordinary road down in this 
plain was a private path through a magnificent estate. As far 
as we could see, a splendid avenue of elms stretched on in front 
of us ; and while we drove through the cool shade, on either side 
lay a spacious extent of park, studded with grand old oaks. At 
length we came upon the stream, flowing brown and clear, down 
through picturesque and wooded banks; and then we got into 
open country again, and ran pleasantly up to Wrexham. 

Perhaps the lieutenant would have liked to bait the horses in 
some tiny village near to this beautiful stream. We should all 
have gone out for a saunter along the banks ; and, in the pulling 
of wild flowers, or the taking of sketches, or some such idyllic 
employment, the party would, in all likelihood, have got divided. 
It would have been a pleasant opportunity for him to ask this 
gentle English girl to be his wife, with the sweet influences of 
the holiday-time disposing her to consent, and with the quiet of 
this wooded valley ready to catch her smallest admission. Be- 
sides, who could tell what might happen after Bell had reached 
Chester? That was the next of the large towns which Arthur had 
agreed to make points of communication. I think the lieutenant 
began at this time to look upon large towns as an abomination, to 
curse telegraphs, and hate the penny-post with a deadly hatred. 


198 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


But in place of any such quiet resting-place, we had to put up 
Castor and Pollux in the brisk little town of Wrexham, which 
was even more than usually busy with its market-day. The 
Wynnstay Arms was full of farmers, seed -agents, implement- 
makers, and what not, all roaring and talking to the last limit of 
their lungs, bustling about the place, and calling for glasses of 
ale, or attacking huge joints of cold roast-beef with an appetite 
which had evidently not been educated on nothing. The streets 
were filled with the venders of various wares; the wives and 
daughters of the farmers, having come in from the country in 
the dog -cart or wagonette, were promenading along the pave- 
ment in the most gorgeous hues known to silken and muslin 
fabrics ; cattle were being driven through narrow thoroughfares ; 
and the sellers of fruit and of fish in the market-place alarming 
the air with their invitations. The only quiet corner, indeed, 
was the church-yard and the church, through which we wandered 
for a little while; but young folks are not so foolish as to tell 
secrets in a building that has an echo. 

Was there no chance for our unfortunate Uhlan ? 

“ Hurry — hurry on to Chester !” cried Bell, as we drove away 
from Wrexham along the level northern road. 

A gloomy silence had overtaken the lieutenant. He was now 
sitting behind with my lady, and she was doing her best to enter- 
tain him (there never was a woman who could make herself more 
agreeable to persons not of her own household), while he sat al- 
most mute, listening respectfully, and half suffering himself to be 
interested. 

Our pretty Bell, on the other hand, was all delight at the pros- 
pect of reaching the quaint old city that evening, and was busy 
with wild visions of our plunge into Wales on the morrow, while 
ever and anon she hummed snatches of the lieutenant’s Burgun- 
dy song.^ 

“ Please may I make a confession ?” she asked, at length, in a 
low voice. 

“Why, yes.” 


* Count Yon Rosen, fearing that his English is not first-rate, begs me to 
say that his very excellent friend Mr. Charles Oberthiir, with whose name the 
public is pretty well familiar, has been good enough to set this song to mu- 
sic. He thinks Mr. Oberthiir’s music better than that which the young Eng- 
lishman used to sing at Bonn, and Bell thinks so too ; but, then, her opinion 


OUR UHLAN OUT-MANCEUVRED. 199 

I hoped, however, she was not going to follow the example of 
the lieutenant, and confide to me that she meditated making a 

always coincides. However, I am permitted, by the joint kindness of Mr. 
Oberthiir and the lieutenant, to give the music here : 

“BURGUNDY ROSE.” 



A Mysterioso, 







— 








MR 

^ 



-I — I — JL 

J- 

: 1 V* 

think. 


f T ' 

f- 

p Or 

else in your 

-p 



1 









W 

1 





^ 


# 

W 


W 








j 

1 





h 1 

1 I - 

1 

V ^ 



1 o n 

1 



1 


r* 



1 ^ 




^ 1 



W 

V 

_ * 

9. 


^-7?^ 1 ^ 


5 

1 ^ 

)• 


200 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


proposal. Although men dislike this duty, they have a prejudice 
against seeing it undertaken by women. 

“All our journey has wanted but one thing,” said Bell. “ We 
have had everything that could be wished — bright weather, a 
comfortable way of travelling, much amusement, plenty of fights 



OUR UHLAN OUT-MANOEUVRED. 


201 


— indeed, there was nothing wanting but one thing, and that was 
the sea. Now, did you ever try to look for it? Were you never 
anxious to see only a long thread of gray near the sky, and be 
quite sure that out there the woods stopped on the edge of a line 
of sand? I dared not tell Tita, for she would have thought me 
very ungrateful ; but I may tell you, for you don’t seem to care 
about anybody’s opinions ; but I used to get a little vexed with 
the constant meadows, rivers, farms, hills, woods, and all that over 
and over again, and the sea not coming any nearer. Of course, 
one had no right to complain, as I suppose it’s put down in the 



202 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


map, and can’t be altered ; but we seem to have been a long time 
coming across the country to reach the sea.” 

“ Why, you wild sea-gull ! do you think that was our only ob- 
ject ? A long time reaching the sea ! Don’t imagine your anxi- 
ety was concealed. I saw you perpetually scanning the horizon, 
as if one level line were bette^ than any other level line at such 
a distance. You began it on Richmond Hill, and would have us 
believe the waves of the Irish Channel were breaking somewhere 
about Windsor.” 

“ No, no !” pleaded Bell ; “ don’t think me ungrateful. I think 
we have been most fortunate in coming as we did; and Count 
Von Rosen must have seen every sort of English landscape — first 
the river-pictures about Richmond, then the wooded hills about 
Oxfordshire, then the plains of Berkshire, then the mere country 
about Ellesmere — and now he is going into the mountains of 
Wales. But all the same we shall reach the sea to-morrow.” 

“ What are you two fighting about ?” says Queen Titania, in- 
terposing. 

“ We are not fighting,” says Bell, in the meekest possible way ; 
“ we are not husband and wife.” 

“ I wish you were,” says the other, coolly. 

“ Madame,” I observe at this point, “ that is rather a danger- 



OUR UHLAN OUT-MAN(EUVRED. 


203 


ous jest to play with. It is now the second time you have made 
use of it this morning.” 

“And if I do repeat old jokes,” says Tita, with a certain calm 
audacity, “it must be through the force of a continual example.” 

“ — And such jests sometimes fix themselves in the mind until 
they develop and grow into a serious purpose.” 

“Does that mean that you would like to marry Bell? If it 
can be done legally and properly, I should not be sorry, I know. 
Can it be done. Count Von Rosen? Shall we four go back to 
London with different partners ? An exchange of husbands — ” 

Merciful powers! what was the woman saying? She sud- 
denly stopped, and an awful consternation fell on the whole four 
of us. That poor little mite of a creature had been taking no 
thought of her words in her pursuit of this harmless jest; and 
somehow it had wandered into her brain that Bell and the lieu- 
tenant were on the same footing as herself and I. A more em- 
barrassing slip of the tongue could not be conceived; and for 
several dreadful seconds no one had the courage to speak, until 
Bell, wildly and incoherently — with her face and forehead glow- 
ing like a rose — asked whether there was a theatre in Chester. 

“ No,” cries my lady, eagerly ; “ don’t ask us to go to the the- 
atre to-night. Bell ; let us go for a walk rather.” 

She positively did not know what she was saying. It was a 
wonder she did not propose we should go to the gardens of 
Cremorne, or up in a balloon. Her heart was filled with anguish 
and dismay over the horrible blunder she had made; and she be- 
gan talking about Chester, in a series of disconnected sentences, 
in which the heart-rending effort to appear calm and uncon- 
strained was painfully obvious. Much as I have had to bear at 
the hands of that gentle little woman, I felt sorry for her then. 
I wondered what she and Bell would say to each other when they 
went off for a private confabulation at night. 

By the time that we drew near Chester, however, this unfortu- 
nate incident was pretty well forgotten ; and we were sufficient- 
ly tranquil to regard with interest the old city, which was now 
marked out in the twilight by the yellow twinkling of the gas- 
lamps. People had come forth for their evening stroll round the 
great wall which encircles the town. Down in the level meadows 
by the side of the Dee, lads were still playing cricket. The twi- 
light, indeed, was singularly clear ; and when we had driven into 


204 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


the town, and put up the phaeton at an enormous Gothic hotel 
which seemed to overawe the small old-fashioned houses in its 
neighborhood, we too set out for a leisurely walk round the an- 
cient ramparts. 

But here again the lieutenant was disappointed. How could 
he talk privately to Bell on this public promenade ? Lovers there 
were there, but all in solitary pairs. If Tita had only known that 
she and I were interfering with the happiness of our young folks, 
she would have thrown herself headlong into the moat rather 
than continue this unwilling persecution. As it was, she went 
peacefully along, watching the purple light of the evening fall 
over the great landscape around the city. The ruddy glow in the 
windows became more and more pronounced. There were voices 
of boys still heard down in the race-course, but there was no more 
cricketing possible. In the still evening, a hush seemed to fall 
over the town ; and when we got round to the weir on the river, 
the vague white masses of water that we could scarcely see sent 
the sound of their roaring and tumbling, as it were, into a hollow 
chamber. Then we plunged once more into the streets. The 
shops were lighted. The quaint galleries along the first fioor of 
the houses, which are the special architectural glory of Chester, 
were duskily visible in the light of the lamps. And then we es- 
caped into the yellow glare of the great dining-room of the Goth- 
ic hotel, and sat ourselves down for a comfortable evening. 

“ Well,” I say to the lieutenant, as we go into the smoking- 
room, when the women have retired for the night, “have you 
asked Bell yet ?” 

“ No,” he answers, morosely. 

“Then you have escaped another day?” 

“ It was not my intention. I will ask her — whenever I get the 
chance — that I am resolved upon ; and if she says ‘ No,’ why, it is 
my misfortune, that is all.” 

“ I have told you she is certain to say ‘ No.’ ” 

“Very well.” 

“ But I have a proposal to make.” 

“ So have I,” says the lieutenant, with a gloomy smile. 

“ To-morrow you are going down to see a bit of Wales. Why 
spoil the day prematurely ? Put it off until the evening, and then 
take your refusal like a man. Don’t do Wales an injustice.” 

“ Why,” says the lieutenant, peevishly, “ you think nothing is 


OUR UHLAN OUT-MANCEUVRED. 


205 


important but looking at a fine country and enjoying yourself 
out-of-doors. I do not care what happens to a lot of mountains 
and rivers when this thing is for me far more important. When 
I can speak to mademoiselle, I will do so ; and I do not care if 
all Wales is put under water to-morrow — ” 

“After your refusal, the deluge. Well, it is a good thing to 
be prepared. But you need not talk in an injured tone, which 
reminds one oddly of Arthur.” 

You should have seen the stare on Von Rosen’s face. 

“ It is true. All you boys are alike when you fall in love — 
all unreasonable, discontented, perverse, and generally objectiona- 
ble. It was all very well for you to call attention to that unhap- 
py young man’s conduct when you were in your proper senses ; 
but now, if you go on as you are going, it will be the old story 
over again.” 

“ Then you think I will persecute mademoiselle, and be inso- 
lent to her and her friends ?” 

“All in good time. Bell refuses you to-morrow. You are 
gloomy for a day. You ask yourself why she has done so. Then 
you come to us and beg for our interference. We tell you it is 
none of our business. You say we are prejudiced against you, 
and accuse us of forwarding Arthur’s suit. Then you begin to 
look on him as your successful rival. You grow so furiously 
jealous — ” 

Here the Uhlan broke into a tremendous laugh. 

“ My good friend, I have discovered a great secret,” he cried. 
“Do you know who is jealous? It is you. You will oppose any 
one who tries to take mademoiselle away from you. And I — I 
will try — and I will do 

From the greatest despondency he had leaped to a sort of wild 
and crazy hope of success. He smiled to himself, walked about 
the room, and talked in the most buoyant and friendly manner 
about the prospects of the morrow. He blew clouds of cigar- 
smoke about as if he were Neptune getting to the surface of the 
sea, and blowing back the sea -foam from about his face. And 
then, all at once, he sat down — we were the only occupants of 
the room — and said, in a hesitating way, 

“ Look here — do you think madame could speak a word to her 
— if she does say ‘ No ?’” 

“ I thought it would come to that.” 


206 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


‘‘You are — what do you call it? — very unsympathetic.” 

“ Unsympathetic ! No ; I have a great interest in both of you. 
But the whole story is so old one has got familiar with its mani* 
festations.” 

“ It is a very old and common thing to be born, but it is a very 
important thing, and it only happens to you once.” 

“ And falling in love only happens to you once, I suppose ?” 

“ Oh no, many times. I have very often been in love with this 
girl or the other girl, but never until this time serious. I never 
before asked any one to marry me ; and surely this is serious — 
that I offer for her sake to give up my country, and my friends, 
and my profession — everything. Surely that is serious enough.” 

And so it was. And I knew that if ever he got Bell to listen 
favorably to him, he would have little difficulty in convincing her 
that he had never cared for any one before, while she would ea- 
sily assure him that she had always regarded Arthur only as a 
friend. For there are no lies so massive, audacious, and unblush- 
ing as those told by two young folks when they recount to each 
other the history of their previous love affairs. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

IN THE FAIRY GLEN. 

“ 0 Queen, thou knowest I pray not for this : 

Oh set us down together in some place 
Where not a voice can break our heaven of bliss, 

Where naught but rocks and I can see her face 
Softening beneath the marvel of thy grace, 

Where not a foot our vanished steps can track, 

The golden age, the golden age come back !” 

Little did our Bonny Bell reck of the plot that had been laid 
against her peace of mind. She was as joyous as a wild sea-bird 
when we drew near the sea. All the morning she had hurried us 
on ; and we were at the station some twenty minutes before the 
train started. Then she must needs sit on the northern side of 
the carriage, close in by the window ; and all at once, when there 
flashed before us a long and level stretch of gray-green, she ut- 
tered a quick low cry of gladness, as though the last wish of her 
life had been realized. 


IN THE FAIRY GLEN. 


207 


Yet there was not much in this glimpse of the sea that we got 
as we ran slowly along the coast-line towards Conway. It was 
a quiet gray day, with here and there a patch of blue overhead. 
The sea was stirred only by a ripple. Here and there it darken- 
ed into a breezy green, but for the most part it reflected the cold 
gray sky overhead. The shores were flat. The tide was up, and 
not a rock to be seen. One or two small boats were visible ; but 
no great full-rigged ship, with all her white sails swelling before 
the wind, swept onward to the low horizon. But it was the sea 
— that was enough for this mad girl of ours. She had the win- 
dow put down, and a cold odor of sea- weed flew through the car- 
riage. If there was not much blue outside, there was plenty in 
the deep and lambent color of her eyes, where pure joy and de- 
light fought strangely with the half-saddening influences produced 
by this first unexpected meeting with the sea. 

Turning abruptly away from the coast -line — with the gray 
walls of Conway Castle overlooking the long sweep of the estuary 
— we plunged down into the mountains. The dark masses of firs 
up among the rocks were deepening in gloom. There was an un- 
earthly calm on the surface of the river, as if the reflection of the 
bowlders, and the birch-bushes, and the occasional cottages lay 
waiting for the first stirring of the rain. Then, far away up the 
cleft of the valley, a gray mist came floating over the hills ; it 
melted whole mountains into a soft dull gray, it blotted out dark- 
green forests and mighty masses of rock, until a pattering against 
the carriage windows told us that the rain had begun. 

“ It is always so in Wales,” said my lady, with a sigh. 

But when we got out at Bettws-y-Coed you would not hav^e 
fancied our spirits were grievously oppressed. Indeed, I often re- 
marked that we never enjoyed ourselves so much, whether in the 
phaeton or out of it, as when there was abundant rain about, the 
desperation of the circumstances driving us into being recklessly 
merry. So we would not take the omnibus that was carrying up 
to the Swallow Falls some half-dozen of those horrid creatures, 
the tourists. The deadly dislike we bore to these unoffending 
people was remarkable. What right had they to be invading this 
wonderful valley ? What right had they to leave Bayswater and 
occupy seats at the tahles-d'hote of hotels ? We saw them drive 
away with a secret pleasure. We hoped they would get wet, and 
swear never to return to Wales. We called them tourists, in 


208 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


short, which has become a term of opprobrium among English- 
men; but we would have perished rather than admit for a mo- 
ment that we too were tourists. 

It did not rain very much. There was a strong resinous odor 
in the air, from the spruce, the larch, the pines, and the breckans, 
as we got through the wood, and ventured down the slippery 
paths which brought us in front of the Swallow Falls. There 
had been plenty of rain, and the foaming jets of water were 
darting among the rocks very much like the white glimmer of 
the marten as he cuts about the eaves of a house in the twilight. 
The roar of the river filled the air, and joined in chorus the rus- 
tling of the trees in the wind. We could scarcely hear ourselves 
speak. It was not a time for confidences. We returned to 
Bettws. 

But the lieutenant, driven wild by the impossibility of placing 
all his sorrows before Bell, eagerly assented to the proposal that 
we should go and see the Fairy Glen — a much more retired spot 
— after luncheon. The dexterity he displayed in hurrying over 
that meal was remarkable. It was rather a scramble ; for a num- 
ber of visitors were in the place, and the long table was pretty 
well filled up. But with a fine audacity our Uhlan constituted 
himself waiter for our party, and simply harried the hotel. If 
my lady’s eyes only happened to wander towards a particular 
dish, it was before her in a twinkling. The lieutenant alarmed 
many a young lady there by first begging her pardon and then 
reaching over her shoulder to carry oft some huge plate ; although 
he presently atoned for these misdemeanors by carving a couple 
of fowls for the use of the whole company. He also made the 
acquaintance of a governess who was in charge of two tender lit- 
tle women of twelve and fourteen. He sat down by the govern- 
ess ; discovered that she had been at Bettws for some weeks ; 
got from her some appalling statistics of the rain that had fallen ; 
then — for the maids were rather remiss — went and got her a bot- 
tle of ale, which he drew for her, and poured out and graciously 
handed to her. Bell was covertly laughing all the time : my lady 
was amazed. 

“ Now,” he said, turning in quite a matter-of-fact way to us, 
“ when do we start for this Fairy Glen ?” 

“ Pray don’t let us take you away from such charming compan* 
ionship,” observed my lady, with a smile. 


IN THE FAIRY GLEN. 


209 


“ Oh, she is a very intelligent person,” says the lieutenant ; “ re- 
ally a very intelligent person. But she makes a great mistake 
in preferring Schiller’s plays to Lessing’s for her pupils. I tried 
to convince her of that. She is going to the Rhine with those 
young ladies, later on in the year — to Konigswinter. Would it 
not be a very nice thing for us all, when we leave the phaeton at 
your home, to go for a few weeks to Konigswinter ?” 

“We cannot all flirt with a pretty governess,” says Tita. 

“ Now that is too bad of you English ladies,” retorts the lieu- 
tenant. “ You must always think, when a man talks to a girl, he 
wants to be in love with her. No ; it is absurd. She is intelli- 
gent — a good talker — she knows very many things, and she is a 
stranger like myself in a hotel. Why should I not talk to her ?” 

“You are quite right. Count Von Rosen,” says Bell. 

Of course he was quite right. He was always quite right! 
But wait a bit ! 

We set off for the Fairy Glen. The rain had ceased ; but the 
broad and smooth roads were yellow with water ; large drops still 
fell from the trees, and the air was humid and warm. The lieu- 
tenant lighted a cigar about as big as a wooden leg ; and Bell in- 
sisted on us two falling rather behind, because that she liked the 
scent of a cigar in the open air. 

We crossed the well-known Waterloo Bridge — built in the same 
year as that which chronicled the great battle — and we heard the 
lieutenant relating to Tita how several of his relatives had been in 
the army which came up to help us on that day. 

“You know we had won before you came up,” said my lady, 
stoutly. 

The lieutenant laughed. 

“ I am not sure about that,” he said ; “ but you did what we 
could not have done — you held the whole French army by your- 
selves, and crippled it so that our mere appearance on the battle- 
field was enough.” 

“ I think it was very mean of both of you,” said Bell, “ to win 
a battle by mere force of numbers. If you had given Napoleon 
a chance — ” 

“ Mademoiselle,” said Von Rosen, “ the object of a campaign 
is to win battles — anyhow. You throw away the heroic elements 
of the old single combatants when it is with armies that you 
fight, and you take all advantages you can get. But who was the 

14 


210 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


braver then — your small English army, or the big French one 
that lost the whole day without overwhelming their enemy, and 
waited until we came down to drive them back ? That is a very 
good word — a very strong word — our zurucJcgeworfen. It is a 
very good thing to see that word at the end of a sentence that 
talks of your enemies.” 

At length we got to the neighborhood of the Fairy Glen, and 
found ourselves in among the wet trees, with the roar of the 
stream reverberating through the woods. There were a great 
many paths in this pretty ravine. You can go close down to the 
water, and find still pools reflecting the silver-lichened rocks, or 
you can clamber along the high banks through the birch and ha- 
zel and elm, and look down on the white water-falls beneath you 
that wet the feras and bushes about with their spray. Four peo- 
ple need not stay together. Perhaps it was because of an ex- 
traordinary change in the aspect of the day that Tita and I lost 
sight of the young folks. Indeed, we had sat down upon a great 
smooth bowlder, and were pensively enjoying the sweet scents 
around, and the plashing of the stream, when this strange thing 
occurred, so that we never remembered that our companions had 
gone. Suddenly into the gloomy gray day there leaped a wild 
glow of yellow fire ; and far up the narrowing vista of the glen 
— where the rocks grew closer together — the sunlight smote 
down on the gleaming green of the underwood, until it shone 
and sparkled over the smooth pools. The light came nearer. 
There was still a sort of mist of dampness in the atmosphere — 
hanging about the woods, and dulling the rich colors of the glen ; 
but as the sunlight came straggling down the rocky ravine a 
dash of blue gleamed out overhead, and a rush of wind through 
the dripping green branches seemed to say that the wet was 
being swept off the mountains and towards the sea. The Fairy 
Glen was now a blaze of transparent green and fine gold, with 
white diamonds of rain -drops glittering on the ferns and moss 
and bushes. It grew warm, too, down in the hollow ; and the 
sweet odors of the forest above — woodruff, and campion, and 
wild mint, and some decayed leaves of the great Saint- John’s- 
wort — all stole out into the moist air. 

“ Where have they gone ?” says Tita, almost sharply. 

“ My dear,” I say to her, “ you were young yourself once. It’s 
a good time ago ; but still — ” 


IN THE FAIRY GLEN. 


211 


“ Bell never asked for letters this morning,” remarked my lady, 
showing the direction her thoughts were taking. 

“ No matter ; Arthur will be meeting us directly. He is sure 
to come over to our route in his dog-cart.” 

“ We must find them, and get back to Bettws-y-Coed,” is the 
only reply which is vouchsafed me. 

They were not far to seek. When we had clambered up the 
steep bank to the path overhead. Bell and the lieutenant were 
standing in the road, silent. As soon as they saw us, they came 
slowly walking down. Neither spoke a word. Somehow, Bell 
managed to attach herself to Tita ; and these two went on ahead. 

“You were right,” said the lieutenant, in a low voice, very dif- 
ferent from his ordinary light and careless fashion. 

“ You have asked her, then ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ And she refused ?” 

“Yes.” 

“ I thought she would.” 

“ Now,” he said, “ I suppose I ought to go back to London.” 

“Why?” 

“ It will not be pleasant for her — my being here. It will be 
very embarrassing to both of us.” 

“ Nonsense ! She will regard it as a joke.” 

I am afraid our Uhlan looked rather savage at this moment. 

“ Don’t you see,” I observed to him seriously, “ that if you go 
away in this manner you will give the affair a tremendous im- 
portance, and make all sorts of explanations necessary ? Why 
not school yourself to meeting her on ordinary terms ; and take 
it that your question was a sort of preliminary sounding, as it 
were, without prejudice to either ?” 

“ Then you think I should ask her again, at some future time ?” 
he said, eagerly. 

“ I don’t think anything of the kind.” 

“ Then why should I remain here ?” 

“ I hope you did not come with us merely for the purpose of 
proposing to Bell.” 

“ No, that is true enough ; but our relations are now all al- 
tered. I do not know what to do.” 

“ Don’t do anything : meet her as if nothing of the kind had 
occurred. A sensible girl like her will think more highly of you 


212 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OP A PHAETON. 


in doing that than in doing some wild and mad thing, which will 
only have the effect of annoying her and yourself. Did she give 
you any reason ?” 

“ I do not know,” said Von Rosen, disconsolately. “ I am not 
sure what I said. Perhaps I did not explain enough. Perhaps 
she thought me blunt, rude, coarse, in asking her so suddenly. It 
was all a sort of fire for a minute or two — and then the cold wa- 
ter came — and that lasts.” 

The two women were now far ahead : surely they were walk- 
ing fast that Bell might have an opportunity of confiding all her 
perplexities to her friend. 

“ I suppose,” said Von Rosen, “ that I suffer for my own folly. 
I might have known. But for this day or two back, it has 
seemed so great a chance to me — of getting her to promise at 
least to think of it — and the prospect of having such a wife as 
that — it was all too much. Perhaps I have done the worst for 
myself by the hurry ; but was it not excusable in a man to be in 
a hurry to ask such a girl to be his wife ? And there is no harm 
in knowing soon that all that was impossible.” 

Doubtless it was comforting to him to go on talking. I won- 
dered what Bell was saying at this moment ; and whether a com- 
parison of their respective views would throw some light on the 
subject. As for the lieutenant, he seemed to regard Bell’s de- 
cision as final. If he had been a little older, he might not; but 
having just been plunged from the pinnacle of hope into an 
abyss of despair, he was too stunned to think of clambering up 
again by degrees. 

But even at this time all his thoughts were directed to the best 
means of making his presence as little of an embarrassment to 
Bell as possible. 

“ This evening will pass away very well,” he said, “ for every- 
body will be talking at dinner, and we need not to address each 
other; but to-morrow — if you think this better that I remain 
with you — then you will drive the phaeton, and you will give 
mademoiselle the front seat — for the whole day? Is it agreed, 
yes ?” 

“Certainly. You must not think of leaving us at present. 
You see, if you went away we should have to send for Arthur.” 

A sort of fiame blazed up into the face of the lieutenant; and 
he said, in a rapid and vehement way, 


IN THE FAIRY GLEN. 


213 


“ This thing I will say to you : if mademoiselle will not marry 
me, good. It is the right of every girl to have her choice. But 
if you allow her to marry that pitiful fellow, it will be a shame ; 
and you will not forgive yourself, either madame or you, in the 
years afterward — that I am quite sure of.” 

“ But what have we to do with Bell’s choice of a husband ?” 

“You talked just now of sending for him to join your party.” 

“ Why, Bell isn’t bound to marry every one who comes for a 
drive with us. Your own case is one in point.” 

“But this is quite different. This wretched fellow thinks he 
has an old right to her, as being an old friend, and all that stupid 
nonsense; and I know that she has a strange idea that she owes 
to him — ” 

The lieutenant suddenly stopped. 

“ No,” he said, “ I will not tell you what she did tell to me 
this afternoon. But I think you know it all ; and it will be very 
bad of you to make a sacrifice of her by bringing him here — ” 

“ If you remain in the phaeton, we can’t.” 

“ Then I will remain.” 

“ Thank you. As Tita and I have to consider ourselves just a 
little bit — amidst all this whirl of love-making and reckless gener- 
osity — I must say we prefer your society to that of Master Arthur.” 

“That is a very good compliment I” says Von Rosen, with an 
Ungracious sneer ; for who ever heard of a young man of twenty- 
six being just to a young man of twenty-two when both wanted 
to marry the same young lady ? 

We overtook our companions. Bell and I walked on together 
to the hotel, and subsequently down to the station. An air of 
gloom seemed to hang over the heavy forests far up amidst the 
gray rocks. The river had a mournful sound as it came rush- 
ing down between the mighty bowlders. Bell scarcely uttered a 
word as we got into the carriage and slowly steamed away from 
the platform. 

Whither had gone the joy of her face? She was once more 
approaching the sea. Under ordinary circumstances you would 
have seen an anticipatory light in her blue eyes, as if she already 
heard the long plash of the waves and smelled the sea -weed. 
Now she sat in a corner of the carriage; and when at last we 
came in view of the most beautiful sight that we had yet met on 
our journey, she sat and gazed at it with the eyes of one distraught. 


214 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


That was a rare and wild picture we saw when we got back to 
the sea. The heavy rain-clouds had sunk down until they formed 
a low dense wall of purple all along the line of the western hori- 
zon between the sea and the sky. That heavy bar of cloud was 
almost black; but just above it there was a calm fair stretch of 
lambent green, with here and there a torn shred of crimson cloud 
and one or two lines of sharp gold, lying parallel with the hori- 
zon. But away over in the east again were some windy masses 
of cloud that had caught a blush of red ; and these had sent a 
pale reflection down on the sea — a sort of salmon -color that 
seemed the complement of the still gold-green overhead. 

The sunset touched faintly the low mountains about the mouth 
of the Dee. A rose-red glimmer struck the glass of the window 
at which Bell sat ; and then, as the train made a slight curve in 
the line running by the shore, the warm light entered and lighted 
up her face with a rich and beautiful glow. The lieutenant, hid- 
den in the dusk of the opposite corner, was regarding her with 
wistful eyes. Perhaps he thought that now, more than ever, she 
looked like some celestial being far out of his reach, whom he 
had dared to hope would forsake her strange altitudes and share 
his life with him. Tita, saying nothing, was also gazing out of 
the window, and probably pondering on the unhappy climax that 
seemed to put an end to her friendly hopes. 

Darkness fell over the sea and the land. The great plain of 
water seemed to fade away into the gloom of the horizon; but 
here, close at hand, the pools on the shore occasionally caught the 
last reflection of the sky, and flashed out a gleam of yellow fire. 
The wild intensity of the colors was almost painful to the eyes — 
the dark blue -green of the shore plants and the sea -grass, the 
gathering purple of the sea, the black rocks on the sand, and 
then that sudden bewildering flash of gold where a pool had been 
left among the sea-weed. The mountains in the south had now 
disappeared ; and were doubtless — away in that mysterious dark- 
ness — wreathing themselves in the cold night-mists that were 
slowly rising from the woods and the valleys of the streams. 
Such was our one and only glimpse of Wales ; and the day that 
Bell had looked forward to with such eager delight had closed in 
silence and despair. 

When we got back to the hotel, a letter from Arthur was ly- 
ing on the table. 


THE COLLAPSE. 


216 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

THE COLLAPSE. 

“ Thy crowded ports, 

Where rising masts an endless prospect yield, 

With labor bum, and echo to the shouts 
Of hurried sailor, as he hearty waves 
His last adieu, and, loosening every sheet. 

Resigns the spreading vessel to the wind.” 

The following correspondence has been handed to us for pub- 
lication : 


“ Cowley House, Twickenham, 
July — , 1871. 

Mon CHER Mamma, — Doctor Ashburton dire me que je ecris 
a vous dans Fransais je sais Fransais un pettit et ici est un letter 
a vous dans Fransais mon cher Mamma le Pony est trai bien et je 
sui mon cher Mamma. Voter aime fils, Tom.” 

“ Cowley House, Twickenham, 
July — , 1871. 

My dear Papa, — Tom as written Mamma a letter in French 
and Doctor Ashburton says I must Begin to learn French too but 
Tom says it is very dificult and it takes a long time to write a 
Letter with the dixonary and he says my dear Papa that we must 
learn German Too but please may I learn German first and you will 
give my love to the German gentleman who gave us the poney 
he is very well my dear Papa and very fat and round and hard in 
the sides Harry French says if he goes on eeting like that he will 
burst but me and Tom only laughed at him and we rode him 
down to Stanes and back which is a long way and I only tumb- 
bled off twice but once into the ditch for he wanted to eat the 
Grass and I Pooled at him and slipt over is head but I was not 
much Wet and I went to bed until Jane dryed all my close and 
no one new of it but her. Pleese my dear papa how is Auntie 
Bell, and we send our love to her, and to my dear mamma and I 
am your affexnate son. Jack. 

“ P.S. — All the monney you sent as gone away for oats and 
beans and hay. Pleese my dear Papa to send a good lot more.” 


216 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Inn, Oakham, Friday Afternoon. 

“ .... You will see I have slightly departed from the route I 
described in a telegram to Bell. Indeed, I find myself so un- 
trammelled in driving this light dog-cart, with a powerful little 
animal that never seems fatigued, that I can go anywhere without 
fearing there will not be accommodation for a pair of horses and 
a large party. I am sure you must often have been put to straits 
in securing rooms for so many at a small country inn. Probably 
you know the horse I have got — it is the cob that Major Qui- 
net brought from Heathcote. I saw him by the merest accident 
when I returned from Worcester to London — told him what I 
meant to do — he offered me the cob with the greatest good-nat- 
ure; and as I knew I should be safer with it than anything I 
could hire, I accepted. You will see I have come a good pace. 
I started on the Tuesday morning after I saw you at Worcester, 
and here I am at Oakham, rather over ninety miles. To-morrow 
I hope to be in Nottingham, about other thirty. Perhaps, if you 
will allow me, I may strike across country, by Huddersfield and 
Skipton, and pay you a visit at Kendal. I hope Bell is well, and 
that you are not having much rain. I have had the most de- 
lightful weather. Yours, sincerely, Arthur Ashburton.” 

“ It is a race,” said the lieutenant, “ who shall be at Carlisle 
first.” 

“ Arthur will beat,” remarked Bell, looking to my lady ; and 
although nothing could have been more innocent than that ob- 
servation, it seemed rather to take Von Rosen down a bit. He 
turned to the window and looked out. 

“ I think it was very foolish of Major Quinet to lend him that 
beautiful little bay cob to go on such an expedition as that,” said 
Tita. “ He will ruin it entirely. Fancy going thirty miles a day 
without giving the poor animal a day’s rest ! Why should he be 
so anxious to overtake us ? If we had particularly wanted him 
to accompany us, we should have asked him to do so.” 

“He does not propose to accompany you,” I say. “He is 
only coming to pay you a visit.” 

“ I know what that means,” says my lady, with a tiny shrug ; 
“ something like the arrival of a mother-in-law, with a carriageful 
of luggage.” 

“ My dear,” I say to her, “ why should you speak scornfully of 


THE COLLAPSE. 


217 


the amiable and excellent lady who is responsible foi you bring- 
ing-up ?” 

“ I was not speaking of my mamma,” says Tita, “ but of the 
abstract mother-in-law.” 

“A man never objects to an abstract mother-in-law. Now, 
your mamma — although she is not to be considered as a mother- 
in-law — ” 

“ My mamma never visits me but at my owu request,” says my 
lady, with something of loftiness in her manner; “and I am 
sorry she makes her visits so short, for when she is in the house, 
I am treated with some show of attention and respect.” 

“ Well,” I say to her, “ if a mother-in-law can do no better 
than encourage hypocrisy — But I bear no malice. I will take 
some sugar, if you please.” 

“And as for Arthur,” continues Tita, turning to Bell, “ what 
must I say to him ?” 

“ Only that we shall be pleased to see him, I suppose,” is the 
reply. 

The lieutenant stares out into the streets of Chester, as though 
he did not hear. 

“ We cannot ask him to go with us — it would look too absurd 
— a dog-cart trotting after us all the way.” 

“ He might be in front,” says Bell, “ if the cob is so good a 
little animal as he says.” 

“ I wonder how Major Quinet could have been so stupid,” says 
Tita, with a sort of suppressed vexation. 

The reader may remember that a few days ago Major Quinet 
was a white-souled angel of a man to whom my lady had given 
one of those formal specifications of character which she has al- 
ways at hand when any one is attacked. Well, one of the party 
humbly recalls that circumstance. He asks in what way Major 
Quinet has changed within the past two days. Tita looks up, 
with a sort of quick, triumphant glance which tells beforehand 
that she has a reply ready, and says, 

“ If Major Quinet has committed a fault, it is one of generosi- 
ty. That is an error not common among men — especially men 
who have horses, and who would rather see their own wives 
walk through the mud to the station than let their horses get 
wet.” 

“ Bell, what is good for you when you’re sat upon ?” 


218 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Patience,” says Bell : and then we go out into the old and 
gray streets of Chester. 

It was curious to notice now the demeanor of our hapless lieu- 
tenant towards Bell. He had had a whole night to think over his 
position ; and in the morning he seemed to have for the first time 
fully realized the hopelessness of his case. He spoke of it — be- 
fore the women came down — in a grave, matter-of-fact way, not 
making any protestation of suffering, but calmly accepting it as 
a matter for regret. One could easily see, however, that a good 
deal of genuine feeling lay behind these brief words. 

Then, when Bell came down he showed her a vast amount of 
studied respect, but spoke to her of one or two ordinary matters 
in a careless tone ; as if to assure everybody that nothing particu- 
lar had happened. The girl herself was not equal to any such ef- 
fort of amiable hypocrisy. She was very timid. She agreed with 
him in a hurried way whenever he made the most insignificant 
statement, and showed herself obtrusively anxious to take his side 
when my lady, for example, doubted the eflScacy of carbolic soap. 
The lieutenant had no great interest in carbolic soap, had never 
seen it, indeed, until that morning ; but Bell was so anxious to be 
kind to him that she defended the compound as if she had been 
the inventor and patentee of it. 

“ It is very awkward for me,” said the lieutenant, as we were 
strolling through the quaint thoroughfares. Bell and my lady 
leading the way along the piazzas formed on the first floor of the 
houses; “it is very awkward for me to be always meeting her, 
and more especially in a room. And she seems to think that she 
has done me some wrong. That is not so. That is quite a mis- 
take. It is a misfortune — that is all ; and the fault is mine that 
I did not understand sooner. Yet I wish we were again in the 
phaeton. Then there is great life — motion — something to do 
and think about. I cannot bear this doing of nothing.” 

Well, if the lieutenant’s restlessness was to be appeased by hard 
work, he was likely to have enough of it that day ; for we were 
shortly to take the horses and phaeton across the estuary of the 
Mersey by one of the Birkenhead ferries ; and any one who has 
engaged in that pleasing operation knows the excitement of it. 
Von Rosen chafed against the placid monotony of the Chester 
streets. The passages under the porticos are found to be rather 
narrow of a forenoon, when a crowd of women and girls have 


THE COLLAPSE. 


219 


come out to look at the shops, and when the only alternative to 
waiting one’s turn and getting along is to descend ignominiously 
into the thoroughfare below. Now, no stranger who comes to 
Chester would think of walking along an ordinary pavement, so 
long as he can pace through those quaint old galleries that are 
built on the roofs of the ground-row of shops and cellars. The 
lieutenant hung aimlessly about — just as you may see a husband 
lounging and staring in Regent Street while his wife is examining 
with a deadly interest the milliners’ and jewellers’ windows. Bell 
bought presents for the boys. My lady purchased photographs. 
In fact, we conducted ourselves like the honest Briton at'’oad, 
who buys a lot of useless articles in every town he comes to, chief- 
ly because he has nothing else to do, and may as well seize that 
opportunity of talking to the natives. 

Then our bonny bays were put into the phaeton, and, with a 
great sense of freedom shining on the face of our Uhlan, we start- 
ed once more for the North. Bell was sitting beside me. That 
had been part of the arrangement. But why was she so pensive ? 
Why this profession of tenderness and an extreme interest and 
kindness ? I had done her no injury. 

“Bell,” I say to her, “have you left all your wildness behind 
you — buried down at the foot of Box Hill, or calmly interred un- 
der a block of stone up on Mickleham Downs ? Where be your 
gibes now? your gambols? your songs? your flashes of merri- 
ment that were wont to set my lady frowning at you as if you 
were an incorrigible Tom-boy ? Come, now, touching that ballad 
of the Bailiff’s Daughter — the guitar has not been out for a long 
time — ” 

A small gloved hand was gently and furtively laid on my arm. 
There was to be no singing. 

“ I think,” said Bell, aloud, “ that this is a very pretty piece of 
country to lie between two such big towns as Chester and Liver- 
pool.” 

The remark was not very profound, but it was accurate, and it 
served its purpose of pushing away Anally that suggestion about 
the guitar. We were now driving up the long neck of land lying 
between the parallel estuaries of the Dee and the Mersey. About 
Backford, and on by Great Sutton and Childer Thornton to East- 
ham, the drive was pleasant enough — the windy day and passing 
clouds giving motion and variety to the undulating pasture-land 


220 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


and the level fields of the farms. But as we drove carelessly 
through the green landscape, all of a sudden we saw before us a 
great forest of masts — gray streaks in the midst of the horizon 
— and behind them a cloud of smoke arising from an immense 
stretch of houses. We discovered, too, the line of the Mersey ; 
and by-and-by we could see its banks widening, until the boats in 
the bed of the stream could be vaguely made out in the distance. 

“ Shall we remain in Liverpool this evening?” asks Bell. 

“ As you please.” 

Bell had been more eager than any of us to hurry on our pas- 
sage to the North, that we should have abundant leisure in the 
Lake country. But a young lady who finds herself in an embar- 
rassing position may imagine that the best refuge she can have in 
the evening is the theatre. 

“ Pray don’t,” says Tita. “ We shall be at Liverpool present- 
ly, and it would be a great pity to throw away a day, when we 
shall want all the spare time we can get when we reach Kendal.” 

Kendal ! It was the town at which Arthur was to meet us. 
But of course my lady had her way. Since Von Rosen chose to 
sit mute, the decision rested with her ; and so the driver, being of 
an equable disposition, and valuing the peace of mind of the party 
far above the respect that ought to have been shown to Liverpool, 
meekly took his orders, and sent the horses on. 

But it was a long way to Liverpool, despite Tita’s assurances. 
The appearances of the landscape were deceitful. The smoke on 
the other side of the river seemed to indicate that the city was 
close at hand ; but we continued to roll along the level road with- 
out apparently coming one whit nearer Birkenhead. We cross- 
ed Bromborough Pool. We went by Primrose Hill. We drove 
past the grounds apparently surrounding some mansion, only to 
find the level road still stretching on before us. Then there were 
a few cottages. Houses of an unmistakably civic look began to 
appear. Suburban villas with gardens walled in with brick stud- 
ded the road -side. Factories glimmered gray in the distance. 
An odor of coal-smoke was perceptible in the air; and finally, 
with a doleful satisfaction, we had the wheels of the phaeton rat- 
tling over a grimy street, and we knew we were in Birkenhead. 

There was some excuse for the lieutenant losing his tempei, 
even if he had not been in rather a gloomy mood, to begin with. 
The arrangements for the transference of carriage -horses across 


THE COLLAPSE. 


221 


the Mersey are of a nebulous description. Wlien we drove down 
the narrow passage to Tranmere Ferry, the only official we could 
secure was a hulking lout of a fellow of decidedly hangdog as- 
pect. Von Rosen asked him, civilly enough, if there was any one 
about who could take the horses out, and superintend the placing 
of them and the phaeton in the ferry. There was no such per- 
son. Our friend in moleskin hinted in a surly fashion that the 
lieutenant might do it for himself. But he would help, he said ; 
and therewith he growled something about being paid for his 
trouble. I began to fear for the safety of that man. The river 
is deep just close by. 

Bell and Tita had to be got out, and tickets taken for the par- 
ty and for the horses and phaeton. When I returned, the lieu- 
tenant, with rather a firm-set mouth, was himself taking the horses 
out, while the loafer in moleskin stood at some little distance, 
scowling and muttering scornful observations at the same time. 

“ Ha ! have you got the tickets ?” said our Uhlan. “ That is 
very good. We shall do so by ourselves. Can you get out the 
nose -bags, that we shall pacify them on going across? I have 
told this fellow if he comes near to the horses, if he speaks one 
word to me, he will be in the river the next moment ; and that 
is quite sure as I am alive.” 

But there was no one who could keep the horses quiet like 
Bell. When they were taken down the little pier, she walked by 
their heads, and spoke to them, and stroked their noses ; and then 
she swiftly got on board the steamer to receive them. The lieu- 
tenant took hold of Pollux. The animal had been quiet enough, 
even with the steamer blowing and puffing in front of him ; but 
when he found his hoofs striking on the board between the pier 
and the steamer, he threw up his head, and strove to back. The 
lieutenant held on by both hands. The horse went back another 
step. It was a perilous moment, for there is no railing to the 
board which forms the gangway to those ferry -steamers, and if 
the animal had gone to one side or the other, he and Von Rosen 
would have been in the water together. But with a “ Hi ! hoop !” 
and a little touch of the whip from behind, the horse sprung for- 
ward, and was in the boat before he knew. And there was Bell 
at his head, talking in an endearing fashion to him as the lieuten- 
ant pulled the strap of the nose-bag up ; and one horse was safe. 

There was less to do with Castor; that prudent animal, with 


222 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


his eyes staring wildly around, feeling his way gingerly on the 
sounding-board, but not pausing all the same. Then he too had 
his nose-bag to comfort him ; and when the steamer uttered a yell 
of a whistle through its steam-pipe the two horses only started 
and knocked their hoofs about on the deck — for they were very 
well employed, and Bell was standing in front of their heads, 
talking to them and pacifying them. 

Then we steamed slowly out into the broad estuary. A strong 
wind was blowing up channel, and the yellow-brown waves were 
splashing about with here and there a bold dash of blue on them 
from the gusty sky overhead. Far away down the Mersey the 
shipping seemed to be like a cloud along the two shores ; and 
out on the wide surface of the river were large vessels being 
tugged about, and mighty steamers coming up to the Liverpool 
piers. When one of these bore down upon us so closely that she 
seemed to overlook our little boat, the two horses forgot their 
corn and flung their heads about a bit ; but the lieutenant had a 
firm grip of them, and they were eventually quieted. 

He had by this time recovered from his fit of wrath. Indeed, 
he laughed heartily over the matter, and said, 

“ I am afraid I did give that lounging fellow a great fright. 
He does not understand German, I suppose; but the sound of 
what I said to him had great effect upon him — I can assure you 
of that. He retreated from me hastily. It was some time be- 
fore he could make out what had happened to him ; and then he 
did not return to the phaeton.” 

The horses bore the landing on the other side very well ; and 
with but an occasional tremulous start permitted themselves to 
be put-to on the quay, amidst the roar and confusion of arriving 
and departing steamers. We were greatly helped in this matter 
by an amiable policeman, who will some day, I hope, become col- 
onel and superintendent of the Metropolitan Force. 

Werther, amidst all this turmoil, was beginning to forget his 
sorrows. We had a busy time of it. He and Bell had been so 
occupied with the horses in getting them over that they had talk 
ed almost frankly to each other : and now there occurred some 
continuation of the excitement in the difficulties that beset us ; for, 
after we had driven into the crowded streets, we found that the 
large hotels in Liverpool have no mews attached to them ; and 
in our endeavors to secure in one place entertainment for both 


THE COLLAPSE. 


223 


man and beast some considerable portion of our time was con- 
sumed. At length we found stabling in Hatton Garden ; and 
then we were thrown on the wide world of Liverpool to look af- 
ter our own sustenance. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant — rather avoiding the di- 
rect look of her eyes, however — “ if you would prefer to wait, and 
go to a theatre to-night — ” 

“ Oh no, thank you,” said Bell, quite hurriedly, as if she were 
anxious not to have her own wishes consulted ; “ I would much 
rather go on as far as we can to-day.” 

The lieutenant said nothing — how could he ? He was but six- 
and-twenty, or thereabouts, and had not yet discovered a key to 
the Rosamond’s maze of a woman’s wishes. 

So we went to a restaurant fronting a dull square, and dined. 
We were the only guests. Perhaps it was luncheon ; perhaps it 
was dinner — we had pretty well forgotten the difference by this 
time, and were satisfied if we could get something to eat, any- 
where, thrice a day. 

But it was only too apparent that the pleasant relations with 
which we had started had been seriously altered. There was a 
distressing politeness prevailing throughout this repast, and Bell 
had so far forgotten her ancient ways as to become quite timid 
and nervously formal in her talk. As for my lady, she forgot to 
say sharp things. Indeed, she never does care for a good brisk 
quarrel, unless there are people present ready to enjoy the specta- 
cle. Fighting for the mere sake of fighting is a blunder; but 
fighting^ in the presence of a circle of noble dames and knights 
becomes a courtly tournament. All our old amusements were 
departing ; we were like four people met in a London drawing- 
room ; and, of course, we had not bargained for this sort of thing 
on setting out. It had all arisen from Bell’s excessive tenderness 
of heart. She had possessed herself with some wild idea that she 
had cruelly wronged our lieutenant. She strove to make up for 
this imaginary injury by a show of courtesy and kindness that 
was embarrassing to the whole of us. The fact is, the girl had 
never been trained in the accomplishments of city life. She re- 
garded a proposal of marriage as something of consequence. 
There was a defect, too, about her pulsation : her heart — that 
ought to have gone regularly through the multiplication-table in 
the course of its beating, and never changed from twice one to 


224 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


twelve times twelve — made frantic plunges here and there, and 
slurred over whole columns of figures in order to send an anxious 
and tender flush up to her forehead and face. A girl who was so 
little mistress of herself that — on a winter’s evening when we 
happened to talk of the summer-time and of half-forgotten walks 
near Ambleside and Coniston — tears might suddenly be seen to 
well up in her blue eyes, was scarcely fit to take her place in a 
modern drawing-room. At this present moment her anxiety, and 
a sort of odd self-accusation, were really spoiling our holiday : but 
we did not bear our Bell much malice. 

It was on this evening that we were destined to make our first 
acquaintance with the alarming method of making roads which 
prevails between Liverpool and Preston. It is hard to say by 
what process of fiendish ingenuity these petrified sweetbreads 
have been placed so as to occasion the greatest possible trouble 
to horses’ hoofs, wheels, and human ears ; and it is just as hard 
to say why such roads, although they may wear long in the 
neighborhood of a city inviting constant traflSc, should be con- 
tinued out into country districts where a cart is met with about 
once in every five miles. These roads do not conduce to talk- 
ing. One thinks of the unfortunate horses, and of the effect 
on springs and wheels. Especially in the quiet of a summer’s 
evening, the frightful rumbling over the wedged-in stones seems 
strangely discordant. And yet, when one gets clear of the sub- 
urban slums and the smoke of Liverpool, a very respectable ap- 
pearance of real country life becomes visible. When you get out 
to Walton Nurseries and on towards Aintree Station and Maghull, 
the landscape looks fairly green, and the grass is of a nature to 
support animal life. There is nothing very striking in the scen- 
ery, it is true. Even the consciousness that away beyond the 
flats on the left the sea is washing over the great sand-banks on 
to the level shores does not help much ; for who can pretend to 
hear the whispering of the far-off tide amidst the monotonous 
rattling over these abominable Lancashire stones? We kept our 
teeth well shut, and went on. We crossed the small river of Alt. 
We whisked through Maghull village. The twilight was gather- 
ing fast as we got on to Aughton, and in the dusk, lighted up 
by the yellow stars of the street-lamps, we drove into Ormskirk. 
The sun had gone down red in the west : we were again assured 
as to the morrow. 


THE COLLAPSE. 


225 


But what would be the good of another bright morning to 
this melancholy Uhlan ? Misfortune seemed to have marked us 
for its own. We drove into the yard of what was apparently 
the biggest inn in the place; and while the women were sent 
into the inn, the lieutenant and I happened to remain a little 
while to look after the horses. Imagine our astonishment, there- 
fore (after the animals had been taken out and our luggage un- 
carted), to find there was no accommodation for us inside the 
building. 

“Confounded house!” growled the lieutenant, in German; 
“ thou hast betrayed me 1” 

So there was nothing for it but to leave the phaeton where it 
was, and issue forth in quest of a house in which to hide our 
heads. It was an odd place when we found it. A group of 
women regarded us with a frightened stare. In vain we invited 
them to speak. At length another woman — little less alarmed 
than the others, apparently — made her appearance, and signified 
that we might, if we chose, go into a small parlor, smelling con- 
sumedly of gin and coarse tobacco. After all, we found the 
place was not so bad as it looked. Another chamber was pre- 
pared for us. Our luggage was brought round. Ham and beer 
were provided for our final meal, with some tea in a shaky tea- 
pot. There was nothing romantic in this dingy hostlery, or in 
this dingy little town ; but were we not about to reach a more 
favored country — the beautiful and enchanted land of which 
Bell had been dreaming so long ? 

“ Zennst du es wohl ? Dahin, dahin, 

Mocht’ ich mit dir, 0 mein Geliebter, ziehn !” 

[Note hy Queen Titania . — “ I confess that I cannot understand these young 
people. On our way from the Fairy Glen back to Bettws-y-Coed, Bell told 
me something of what had occurred ; but I really could not get from her any 
proper reason for her having acted so. She was much distressed, of course. 
I forbore to press her, lest we should have a scene, and I would not hurt the 
girl’s feelings for the world, for she is as dear to me as one of my own chil- 
dren. But she could give no explanation. If she had said that Count Von 
Rosen had been too precipitate, I could have understood it. She said she 
had known him a very short time ; and that she could not judge of a propo- 
sition coming so unexpectedly ; and that she could not consent to his leaving 
his country and his profession for her sake. These are only such objections 
as every girl uses when she really means that she does not wish to marry. I 
asked her why. She had no objections to urge against Lieutenant Yon Ro- 
sen personally — as how could she? — for he is a most gentlemanly young 
man, with abilities and accomplishments considerably above the average. 

15 


226 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Perhaps, living down in the country for the greater part of the year, I am 
not competent to judge; but I think at least he compares very favorably 
with the gentlemen whom I am in the habit of seeing. I asked her if she 
meant to marry Arthur. She would not answer. She said something about 
his being an old friend — as if that had anything in the world to do with it. At 
first I thought that she had merely said No for the pleasure of accepting af- 
terward ; and I knew that in that case the lieutenant, who is a shrewd young 
man, and has plenty of courage, would soon make another trial. But I was 
amazed to find so much of seriousness in her decision ; and yet she will not 
say that she means to marry Arthur. Perhaps she is waiting to have an ex- 
planation with him first. In that case I fear Count Von Rosen’s chances are 
but very small indeed ; for I know how Arthur has wantonly traded on Bell’s 
great generosity before. Perhaps I may be mistaken; but she would not 
admit that her decision could be altered. I must say it is most unfortunate. 
Just as we were getting on so nicely and enjoying ourselves so much, and 
just as we were getting near to the Lake country that Bell so much delights 
in, everything is spoiled by this unhappy event, for which Bell can give no 
adequate reason whatever. It is a great pity that one who shall be nameless, 
but who looks pretty fairly after his own comfort, did not absolutely forbid 
Arthur to come vexing us in this way by driving over to our route. If Dr. 
Ashburton had had any proper control over the boy, he would have kept 
him to his studies in the Temple, instead of allowing him to risk the break- 
ing of his neck by driving wildly about the country in a dog-cart.”] 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 

“As she fled fast through sun and shade, 

The happy winds about her played, 

Blowing the ringlet from the braid : 

She looked so lovely as she swayed 
The rein with dainty finger-tips, 

A man had given all other bliss. 

And all his worldly wealth for this — 

To waste his whole heart in one kiss 
Upon her perfect lips.” 

This state of affairs could not last. 

“ Look here,” I say to Queen Titania, “ we must cut the lieu- 
tenant adrift.” 

“As you please,” she remarks, with a sudden coldness coming 
over her manner. 

“Why should we be embarrassed by the freaks of these two 
young creatures? All the sunshine has gone out of the party 
since Bell has begun to sit mute and constrained, her only wish 
apparently being to show a superhuman courtesy to this perplex- 
ing young Prussian.” 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 


227 


“You very quickly throw over any one who interferes with 
your own comfort,” says my lady, calmly. 

“I miss my morning ballad. When one reaches a certain 
age, one expects to be studied and tended — except by one’s 
wife.” 

“Well,” says Tita, driven to desperation by this picture of 
Von Rosen’s departure, “I warned you at our setting out that 
these two would fall in love with each other and cause us a great 
deal of trouble.” 

Who can say that this little woman is wanting in courage? 
The audacity with which she made this statement was marvellous. 
She never flinched ; and the brown, clear, true eyes looked as 
bravely unconscious as if she had been announcing her faith in 
the multiplication-table. There was no use in arguing the point. 
How could you seek to thwart or influence the Arm belief that 
shone clearly and steadily under the soft eyelashes? 

“Come,” I say to her, “ is Von Rosen to go ; or is he to hang 
on in hope of altering Bell’s decision ? I fancy the young man 
would himself prefer to leave us ; I don’t think he is in a com- 
fortable position.” 

My lady appeared a trifle embarrassed. Was there some dark 
secret between these two women? 

“A young man,” she says, with a little hesitation, “ is the best 
judge of his own chances. I have asked Bell ; and I really can ’t 
quite make her out. Still, you know, a girl sometimes is in a 
manner frightened into saying ‘ No,’ the first time she is asked ; 
and there might be — ” 

She stopped. 

“You think the lieutenant should ask her again?” 

“ No, / don’t,” says Tita, hastily ; “ but it is impossible to say 
— she had nothing to urge against Count Von Rosen — only that 
Arthur would consider himself unjustly treated — ” 

“ So-ho ! Is that the reason ?” 

“ No, no, no !” cries the small woman, in an agony of fright* 
“ Don’t you go and put any wrong notions into the young man’s 
head—” 

“ Madam,” I say to her, “ recollect yourself. So far from wish- 
ing to interfere in the affairs of these two young people, I should 
like to bundle them both back to London, that we might con- 
tinue our journey in peace. As for the lieutenant’s again pro- 


228 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


posing to marry Bell, I consider that a man who twice asks a 
woman to become his wife forgets the dignity of his sex.” 

Tita looks up, with the most beautifully innocent smile in her 
eyes, and says, sweetly, 

“You did yourself.” 

“ That was different.” 

“ Yes, I dare say.” 

“ I knew your heart would have broken if I hadn’t.” 

“ Oh !” she says, with her eyes grown appalled. 

“ In fact, it was my native generosity that prompted me to ask 
you a second time ; for I perceived that you were about to ask 
me.” 

“ How many more ?” she asks. But I cannot make out what 
mysterious things she is secretly counting up. 

“ But no matter. There is little use in recalling these by-gone 
mistakes. Justice is satisfied when a fool repents him of his folly.” 

At this moment Bell enters the room. She goes up to Tita, 
and takes both her hands. 

“You are laughing in a perplexed way. You must have been 
quarrelling. What shall we do to him ?” 

“ The falling out of faithful friends is generally made up with 
a kiss. Bell,” it is remarked. 

“ But I am not in the quarrel,” says Miss Bell, retreating to 
the window ; and here there is a rumble of wheels outside, and 
the phaeton stands at the door. 

“You two must get up in front,” says Tita, as we go out into 
the white glare of Ormskirk. “ I can watch you better there.” 

By this dexterous manoeuvre Bell and the lieutenant were 
again separated. The young lady was never loath to sit in front, 
under whatever surveillance it placed her; for she liked driving. 
On this cool morning — that promised a warmer day, after the 
wind had carried away the white fleece of cloud that stretched 
over the sky — she pulled on her gloves with great alacrity, and, 
having got into her seat, assumed the management of the reins 
as a matter of course. 

“Gently!” I say to her, as Castor and Pollux make a plunge 
forward into the narrow thoroughfare. A hand-barrow is jutting 
out from the pavement. She gives a jerk to the left rein, but it 
is too late ; one of our wheels just touches the end of the barrow, 
and over it goes — not with any great crash, however. 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG, 229 

“ Go on,” says the lieutenant, from behind, with admirable cool- 
ness. “ There is no harm done ; and there is no one in charge of 
that thing. When he comes, he will pick it up.” 

“ Very pretty conduct,” remarks my lady, as we get out among 
the green fields and meadows again ; “ injuring some poor man’s 
property, and quietly driving away without even offering com- 
pensation.” 

“ It was Bell who did it,” I say. 

“As usual. The old story repeated from the days of Eden 
downward. The woman thou gavest me — of course, it is she who 
must bear the blame.” 

“ Madame,” I reply, “ your knowledge of Scripture is astound- 
ing. Who was the first attorney-general in the Bible ?” 

“ Find out,” says Tita ; and the lieutenant burst into a roar of 
laughter as if that were a pretty repartee. 

“And where do we stop to-night?” says our North -country 
maid, looking away along the green valley which is watered by 
the pretty Eller Brook. 

“ Garstang, on the river of Wyre.” 

“And to-morrow we shall really be in Westmoreland?” 

“ To-morrow we shall really be in Westmoreland. Wo-ho, my 
beauties ! Why, Bell, if you try to leap across Lancashire at a 
bound like that, you’ll have us in a canal, or transfixed on a tele- 
graph-post.” 

“ I did not intend it,” says Bell, “ but they are as anxious as I 
am to get North, and they break into a gallop on no provocation 
whatever.” 

Indeed, the whole nature of this mad girl seemed to have a 
sort of resemblance to a magnetic needle — it was continuously 
turning to the North Pole, and that in a tremulous, undecided 
fashion, as if, with all her longing, she did not quite like to let 
people know. But at this moment she forgot that we were lis- 
tening. It was really herself she was delighting with her talk 
about deep valleys, and brown streams, and the scent of peat- 
smoke in the air of an evening. All the time she was looking 
away up to the horizon, to see whether she could not make out 
some lines of blue mountains, until Tita suddenly said, 

“My dear!” 

“ Meaning me, ma’am ?” 

“ No, I mean Bell. Pray keep a firmer hand on the horses — 


230 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


if a train were to come sharply by at present — and you see the 
road runs parallel with the railway-line for an immense distance.” 

“ And should we,” says Bell, lightly. There is no danger. 
The poor animals wouldn’t do anything wicked at such a time, 
just when they are getting near to a long rest.” 

Under Bell’s guidance we do not lose much time by the way. 
The road leaves the neighborhood of the railway. We drive past 
the great park of Rufford Hall. The wind blows across to us 
from the Irish Sea; and at the small village of Much Hoole, 
where the lieutenant insists on giving the horses a little meal and 
water as a sort of soothing draught, we come in sight of the long 
red line of the Ribble, widening out into a sandy channel as it 
nears the ocean. Bell catches a glimpse of the smoke of a steam- 
er; and the vague knowledge that the plain of salt water is not 
far away seems to refresh us all, as we plunge once more into the 
green and wooded country, by Longton, Hutton, and Howick. 

“ What is the greatest wish of your life. Bell ?” I ask, knowing 
that she is dreaming of living somewhere along the coast of these 
islands. 

“ To see mamma pleased,” says Bell, quite prettily, just as if 
she were before a school-mistress. 

“ You ask for the impossible. Tita’s dream of earthly bliss is 
to have the cross in our little church turned to a crucifix ; and it 
will never be realized. I think she would rather have that than 
be made a duchess.” 

“ I do miss that dear little church,” says Tita, taking no heed 
of the charge preferred against her. “ There is no feeling of 
homeliness about the churches we go into up here, ou know 
that you are a stranger, and all the people are strangers, and you 
are not accustomed to the clergyman’s voice.” 

“ The fact is,” I tell her, “ you lose the sense of proprietorship 
which pleases you down at home. There the church is your own. 
You set out on a quiet Sunday morning; you know ah the peo- 
ple coming through the fields and along the roads, and you have 
an eye on them, to mark the absentees. There is a family gath- 
ering in the church-yard, and a universal shaking of hands : yoi; 
are pleased that all the people are coming to your church. You 
go in ; the evergreens everywhere about you put there yourself. 
The tall white lilies on the altar you presented to the vicar, 
though I paid for them. Bell sits down to the organ — probably 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 


231 


thinking that her new boots may slip on one of the pedals and 
produce a discord in the bass — and you know that your family is 
providing the music too. The vicar and his wife dined with you 
the night before ; you are in secret league with them. You know 
all the people : Lord ’s butler, who is the most venerable per- 

son in the place ; that squint-eyed publican, who thrashes his wife 
on the Saturday so that she can’t come on the Sunday ; all the 
other various pensioners you have, who you vainly think are be- 
ing taught to be independent and economical ; and a lot of small 
boys in knickerbockers and shiny heads of hair, and pretty young 
ladies with sailors’ hats, blue ribbons, white jackets, and big wist- 
ful eyes. You are the presiding genius of the place ; and when 
Bell begins the music, and the sunlight comes through the small 
and yellow windows in the southern aisle ; and when you see the 
light shining on the mural tablets, with the colored coats of arms 
above, you ask yourself what other place could produce this feel- 
ing of homely satisfaction, and what fashionable London church, 
with all its money, could manufacture these ancient blocks of mar- 
ble, until you think you could spend all your own money, and all 
your husband’s too, in making the small building a sort of eccle- 
siastical museum.” 

“ I hope,” says Tita, with great severity, “ I do not go into 
church with any such thoughts. It is an auctioneer’s view of a 
morning service.” 

“ It is the business of an auctioneer, my dear creature, to esti- 
mate the actual value of articles. But I forgot one thing. After 
you have contemplated the church with profound satisfaction — 
just as if those old knights and baronets had died in order to 
adorn the walls for you — your eye wanders up to the altar. It 
is a pretty altar-cloth ; goodness knows how much time you and 
Bell spent over it. The flowers on the altar are also beautiful, 
or ought to be, considering the price that Benson charges for 
them. But that plain gilt cross, with the three jewels in it — that 
is rather a blot, is it not ?” 

“ Why don’t you go to the zinc chapel ?” says Tita, with some 
contempt. 

“ I would if I dared.” 

“Who prevents you? I am sure it is not 1. I would much 
rather you went there than come to ehurch merely to calculate 
the cost of every bit of fern or yew that is placed on the walls, 


232 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


and to complain of the introduction into the sermon of doctrines 
which you can’t understand.” 

“ May I go to chapel, please ?” 

“Certainly. But you are a good deal fonder of going up to 
Mickleham Downs than to either church or chapel.” 

“ Will you come to chapel, Bell ?” 

“ I am not going to interfere,” says Bell, with philosophical in- 
difference, and paying much more attention to her horses. 

“ I should be sorry to go,” I observe, calmly, “ for I had half 
resolved to ask Mr. Lestrange to let me put in yellow glass in 
those two windows that are at present white.” 

“ Oh, will you really ?” cries Queen Tita, in a piteously eager 
tone, and quite forgetting all her war of words. 

Well, I promise, somewhat sadly. It is not the cost of it that 
is the matter. But on those Sunday mornings when the sunlight 
is flooding the church with a solemn glow of yellow, it is some- 
thing to turn to the two white windows, and there, through the 
diamond panes, you can see the sunlight shimmering on the 
breezy branches of an ash-tree. This little glimpse of the bright 
and glowing world outside, when our vicar, who, it must be con- 
fessed, is not always in a happy mood, happens to be rather drow- 
sy and even depressing in the monotony of his commonplaceness 
— but perhaps it will be better to say nothing more on this point. 

Why the people of the flourishing town of Preston do not 
bridge the Kibble in a line running parallel with their chief thor- 
oughfare and the road leading up from Harwich, is inexplicable. 
A pleasure party need not mind, for the drive is pleasant enough ; 
but business folks might be tempted to use bad language over 
such an unnecessary injury. The road makes a long double along 
the two banks of the river, the most westerly bridge forming 
the end of the loop. First you drive down the left bank of the 
stream, over fine green meadows ; then you cross the bridge, and 
drive back along the right bank, between avenues of young trees. 
Perhaps the notion is to give you as much as possible of the 
green and pleasant surroundings of Preston, before letting you 
plunge into the streets of the town. 

Now, I do not know how it was that from the moment of our 
entering Preston a vague feeling of satisfaction and hope seemed 
to get possession of our small party. We had started in the 
morning under somewhat embarrassing and awkward conditions, 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 


233 


4ot likely to provoke high spirits ; but now we seemed to have i 
nebulous impression that the end of our troubles had come. Was 
it because we had reached the last of the large manufacturing 
towns on our jouruey, and that we should meet with no more of 
them ? Or was it because of that promise to Queen Titan ia ? 
for that kindly little woman, when she is pleased, has a wonderful 
power of conveying her gladness to others, and has been known 
to sweeten a heavy dinner-party as a bunch of woodruff will 
sweeten a lumber-room. Or was it that we knew, in approaching 
Kendal, we should probably come to a final settlement of all our 
difficulties, and have thereafter peace ? 

As we were walking, after luncheon, through the spacious pub- 
lic gardens that overlook the Kibble, the lieutenant drew me aside, 
and said, 

“ My good friend, here is a favor I will ask of you. We come 
to-night to Garstang, yes ?” 

“ Yes, we shall reach Garstang to-night.” 

“ A town or a village ?” 

“ I don’t know. Probably a village.” 

“ I did hope it was not a town. Well, this is what I ask. 
You will endeavor to take away madame for a few moments — 
if we are out walking, you know — and you will let me say a few 
words to mademoiselle by herself.” 

“ I thought all your anxiety was to avoid her.” 

“ There is something I must say to her.” 

“All right ; I will do what you ask, on condition you do not 
persecute her. When she wishes to rejoin us, you must not pre- 
vent her.” 

“ Persecute her ? Then you do think I will quarrel with her, 
and make her very miserable, merely because she will not marry 
me? You think it will be as it was at Worcester, when that stu- 
pid boy from Twickenham did go along the river ? Well, all I 
ask you is to look at these two days. Has there been any quar- 
rel between us ? No, it is quite the opposite.” 

“ Then let it remain that way, my dear fellow. One Arthur is 
bad enough for a girl to manage ; but two would probably send 
her into a convent for life.” 

And the truth was as the lieutenant had described it. They 
had been during these two days more than polite to each other. 
Somehow, Bell was never done in paying him furtive little attem 


334 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


lions, althougli she spoke to him rarely. That morning she had 
somewhere got a few wild flowers ; and three tiny bouquets were 
placed on the breakfast-table. The lieutenant dared not think 
that one of them was for him. He apologized to mademoiselle 
for taking her seat. Bell said he had not — the bouquet was for 
him if he cared to have it, she added with a little diffidence. The 
lieutenant positively blushed, said nothing, and altogether neg- 
lected his own breakfast in offering her things she did not want. 
The bouquets given to Tita and her husband were pinned into 
prominent positions; but no human eye saw anything more of 
the wild blossoms that Bell had given to Von Rosen. Betting 
on a certainty is considered dishonorable ; and so I will not say 
what odds I would give that these precious flowers were transfer- 
red to a book, and that at this moment they could be produced 
if a certain young man were only willing to reveal their where- 
abouts. 

Everything seemed to favor us on this fine afternoon as we 
drove away northward again. The road grew excellent, and we 
knew that we had finally left behind us that deafening causeway 
that had dinned our ears for days past. Then the cool breeze of 
the forenoon and midday had died down, and a still, warm sunset 
began to break over the western country, between us and the sea. 
We could not, of course, get any glimpse of the great plain of wa- 
ter beyond the land ; but we knew that this great fire of crimson 
and yellow was shining down on it too, and on the long curves of 
the shore. 

The western sands could not be much more level than the road 
that runs up by Broughton and Brock-bridge, but it takes one 
through a sufficiently pleasant country, which is watered by a 
multitude of brooks and small rivers. It is a rich and well-culti- 
vated country, too ; and the far-stretching meadows and copses 
and fields seemed to grow darker in their green under that smoke 
of dusky crimson that had filled the sky. It is true, we were 
still in Lancashire, and there was still present to us a double line 
of communication with the manufacturing towns we had now left 
Dehind. At certain places the road would run by the side of a 
railway-line, and then again we would find a canal winding itself 
like a snake through the grassy meadows. But a sunset is a 
wonderful smoother -down of these artificial features in a land- 
scape ; and when the earth-banks of the railway-line burned crim* 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 


235 


son under the darkening sky, or when an arm of the canal caught 
a flush of flame on its glassy surface, the picture was rather help- 
ed than otherwise, and we bore the engineers of this favored land 
no deadly grudge. 

A sunset, by-the-way, was always favorable to Bell’s appear- 
ance. It lent to those fine and wavy masses of hair a sort of 
glory ; and the splendid aureole was about all of his sweetheart 
that the lieutenant could see, as he sat in the hind seat of the 
phaeton. Bell wears her hair rather loose when she is out in the 
country, and greatly likes, indeed, to toss it about as if she were 
a young lion : so that you may fancy how the warm light of the 
sunset glowed here and there on those light and silken heaps of 
golden-brown as we drove along in the quiet evening. Some- 
times, indeed, he may have caught the outline of her face as she 
turned to look over the far landscape ; and then, I know, the del- 
icate oval was tinted by the generous color of the western skies, 
so that not alone in the miracle of her hair did she look like 
some transfigured saint. 

Her talk on this evening, however, was far from saintly. It 
was as worldly as it well could be ; for she was confessing to the 
agony she used to suffer after going home from dinner-parties, 
balls, and other godless diversions of a like nature. 

“ I used to dread going up to my room,” she said, “ for I could 
get no rest until I had sat down and gone over everything that 1 
had said during the evening. And then all the consequences of 
my imprudence came rushing down on me, until I felt I was 
scarcely fit to live. What you had been led into saying as a mere 
piece of merriment now looked terribly like impertinence. Many 
a time I wrote down on a piece of paper certain things that I re- 
solved to go the next day and make an apology for to the old la- 
dies whom I am sure I had offended. But the next morning, 
things began to look a little better. A little reassurance came 
with the briskness of the day ; and I used to convince myself 
that nobody would remember the heedless sayings that had been 
provoked by the general light talk and merriment. I absolved 
myself for that day ; and promised, and vowed, and made the 
most desperate resolutions never, never to be thoughtless in the 
future, but always to watch every word I had to say.” 

“ And in the evening,” continued my lady, “ you went out to 
another dance, and enjoyed yourself the same, and said as many 


236 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


wild things as usual, and went home again to do penance. It is 
quite natural, Bell. Most girls go through that terrible half-hour 
of reaction, until they grow to be women — ” 

“And then,” it is remarked, “ they have never anything to be 
sorry about ; for they are always circumspect, self-possessed, and 
sure about what they mean to say. They never have to spend a 
dreadful half-hour in trying to recollect mistakes and follies.” 

“As for gentlemen,” remarked Titania, sweetly, “ I have heard 
that their evil half-hour is during the process of dressing, when 
they endeavor to recall the speech they made at the public dinner 
of the night before, and wonder how they could have been so 
stupid as to order a lot of Champagne to oblige a friend just gone 
into that business, and are not very sure how many people they 
invited to dinner on the following Friday. Count Von Kosen — ” 

“ Yes, madame.” 

“ When you observe a husband whistling while his wife is talk- 
ing, what do you think ?” 

“ That she is saying something he would rather not hear,” re- 
plies the lieutenant, gravely. 

“ And is not that a confession that what she says is true ?” 

“ Yes, madame,” says the lieutenant, boldly. 

“ My dear,” I say to her, “ your brain has been turned by the 
last sporting novel you have read. You are a victim of cerebral 
inflammation. When you pride yourself on your researches into 
the ways and habits of the sex which you affect to despise, don’t 
take that sort of farthing-candle to guide you. As for myself, 
our young friend from Prussia would scarcely credit the time I 
spend in helping you to nail up brackens and larch and ivy in 
that wretched little church ; and if he knew the trouble I have to 
keep Bell’s accounts straight — when she is reckoning up what 
the process of producing paupers in our neighborhood costs us — 
why, he would look upon you as an unprincipled calumniator.” 

“ Mamma herself is scarcely so big as those two words put to- 
gether,” says Bell ; but mamma is laughing all this time, quite 
pleased to see that she has raised a storm in a tea-cup by her un- 
gracious and unwarranted assault. 

In the last red rays of the sun we have got on to a small eleva- 
tion. Before us the road dips down and crosses the canal ; then 
it makes a twist again and crosses the Wyre ; and up in that cor 
ner are the scattered gables of Garstang. As we pass over the 


THE WHITE OWLS OP GARSTANG. 


237 


river it I's running cold and dark between its green banks; and 
the sunset is finally drawing down to the west as we drive into 
the silent village, and up to the door-step of The Royal Oak. 

’Tis a quaint and ancient hostlery. For aught we know, the 
Earl of Derby’s soldiers may have walked over hither for a draught 
of beer when they were garrisoning Greenhalgh Castle over there ; 
and when the brave countess, away down at Latham, was herself 
fixing up the royal standard on the tower of the castle, as Mr. 
Leslie’s picture shows us, and bidding defiance to the Parliament- 
ary troops. When you tell that story to Queen Titania, you can 
see her gentle face grow pale with pride and admiration ; for did 
not the gallant countess send out word to Fairfax that she would 
defend the place until she lost her honor or her life, for that she 
had not forgotten what she owed to the Church of England, to 
her prince, and to her lord ? My lady looks as if she, too, could 
have sent that message ; only that she would have stopped at the 
Church of England, and gone no farther. 

When we come out again, the sunset has gone, and a wonder- 
ful pale-green twilight lies over the land. We go forth from the 
old-fashioned streets, and find ourselves by the banks of the clear 
running river. A pale metallic light shines along its surface ; and 
as we walk along between the meadows and the picturesque banks 
— where there is an abundance of the mighty burdock-leaves that 
are beloved of painters — an occasional splash is heard, whether of 
a rat or a trout, no one can say. Somehow the lieutenant has 
drawn Bell away from us. In the clear twilight we can see their 
figures sharp and black on the dark-green slope beside the stream. 
Queen Tita looks rather wistfully at them ; and is, perhaps, think- 
ing of days long gone by when she too knew the value of silence 
on a beautiful evening, by the side of a river. 

“ I hope it is not wrong,” says my lady, in a low voice, “ but I 
confess I should like to see the lieutenant marry our Bell.” 

“Wrong? No. It is only the absent who are in the wrong 
— Arthur, for example, who is perhaps at Kendal, at this moment, 
waiting for us.” 

“We cannot all be satisfied in this world,” remarks Tita, pro- 
foundly ; “ and as one of these two alone can marry Bell, I do 
hope it may be the lieutenant, in spite of what she says. I think 
it would be very pleasant for all of us. What nice neighbors 
they would be for us ! for I know Bell would prefer to live down 


238 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OP A PHAETON. 


near us in Surrey, and the lieutenant can have no particular pref- 
erence for any place in England.” 

“ A nice holiday -time we should have of it, with these two idle 
creatures living close by and making continual proposals to go 
away somewhere.” 

“ Bell would not be idle.” 

“ She must give up her painting if she marries.” 

“ She won’t give it up altogether, I hope ; and, then, there is 
her music, even if she had no household duties to occupy her 
time ; and I know she will make an active and thrifty housewife. 
Indeed, the only idler will be the lieutenant, and he can become 
a captain of Volunteers.” 

And yet she says she never lays plans ! that she has no wish 
to interfere between Arthur and Von Rosen! that she would 
rather see Bell relieved from the persecutions of both of them! 
She had already mapped out the whole affair; and her content 
was so great that a beautiful gladness and softness lay in her 
eyes, and she began to prattle about the two boys at school, and 
all she meant to take home to them ; and, indeed, if she had been 
at home, she would have gone to the piano and sung to herself 
some low and gentle melody, as soft and as musical as the croon- 
ing of a wood-pigeon hidden away among trees. 

Then she said, “ How odd that Bell should have begun to talk 
about these unfortunate slips of the tongue that haunt you after- 
ward ! All these two days I haven’t been able to get rid of thp 
remembrance of that terrible mistake I made in speaking ot 
Count Von Rosen and Bell as already married. But who knows? 
there may be a Providence in such things.” 

“ The Providence that lies in blunders of speech must be rath- 
er erratic ; but it is no wonder you spoke by mischance of Bell’s 
marrying the lieutenant, for you think of nothing else.” 

“ But don’t you think it would be a very good thing ?” 

“ What I think of it is a different matter. What will Arthur 
think of it?” 

“ The whole world can’t be expected to move round merely to 
please Arthur,” says my lady, with some asperity. “ The fact is, 
those young men are so foolish that they never reflect that a girl 
can’t marry two of them. They are always falling in love with a 
girl who has a suitor already, and then she is put to the annoyance 
of refusing one of them, and that one considers her a monster.” 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 


239 


“ Well, if any one is open to that charge in the present case, it 
certainly is not Arthur.” 

My lady did not answer. She was regarding with a tender 
glance those two young folks strolling through the meadows be- 
fore us. What were they saying to each other ? Would Bell re- 
lent? The time was propitious — in the quiet of this pale, clear 
evening, with a star or two beginning to twinkle, and the moon 
about to creep up from behind the eastern woods. It was a time 
for lovers to make confessions, and give tender pledges. None 
of us seemed to think of that wretched youth who was blindly 
driving through England in a dog-cart, and torturing himself in 
the horrible solitude of inns. Unhappy Arthur ! 

For mere courtesy’s sake, these two drew near to us again. 
We looked at them. Bell turned her face away, and stooped to 
pick up the white blossom of a campion that lay like a great 
glow-worm among the dark herbage. The lieutenant seemed a 
little more confident, and he was anxious to be very courteous 
and friendly towards Tita. That lady was quite demure, and 
suggested that we might return to the village. 

We clambered up a steep place that led from the hollow of the 
river to a higher plain, and here we found ourselves by the side 
of the canal. It looked like another river. There were grassy 
borders to it, and by the side of the path a deep wood descend- 
ing to the fields beyond. The moon had now arisen, and, on the 
clear, still water, there were some ripples of gold. Far away, on 
the other side, the bams and hay-stacks of a farm-house were vis- 
ible in the pale glow of the sky. 

“ What is that ?” said Tita, hurriedly, as a large white object 
sailed silently through the faint moonlight and swept into the 
wood. 

Only an owl. But the sound of her voice had disturbed sev- 
eral of the great birds in the trees, and across the space between 
the wood and the distant farm-house they fied noiselessly, with a 
brief refiection of their broad wdngs falling on the still waters as 
they passed. We remained there an unconscionable time, lean- 
ing on the stone parapet of the bridge, and watching the pale 
line of the canal, the ripples of the moonlight, the dark wood, and 
the great and dusky birds that floated about like ghosts in the 
perfect stillness. When we returned to Garstang, the broad 
square in the centre of the place was glimmering gray in the 


240 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


moonlight, and black shadows had fallen along one side of the 
street!. 

“My dear friend,” said Von Rosen, in an excited and urgent 
way, as soon as our two companions had gone up-stairs to pre- 
pare for supper, “ I have great news to tell you.” 

“ Bell has accepted you, I suppose,” said I — the boy talking as 
if that were a remarkable phenomenon in the world’s history. 

“ Oh no, nothing so good as that — nothing not near so good 
as that; but something very good indeed. It is not all finally 
disposed of — there is at least a little chance — one must wait; 
but is not this a very great hope ?” 

“ And is that all you obtained by your hour’s persuasion ?” 

“Pfui! You do talk as if it did not matter to a young girl 
whether she marries one man or marries another.” 

“ I don’t think it much matters really.” 

“ Then this is what I tell you — ” 

But here some light footsteps were heard on the stairs, and 
the lieutenant suddenly ceased, and rushed to open the door. 

Bell was as rosy as a rose set amidst green leaves when she en- 
tered, followed by Tita. 

“ We are very late,” said the girl, as if she were rather afraid 
to hazard that startling and profound observation. 

“ Madame,” said the lieutenant, “ I give you my word this is 
the best ale we have drunk since we started ; it is clear, bright, 
very bitter, brisk ; it is worth a long journey to drink such ale ; 
and I hope your husband, when he writes of our journey, will 
give our landlady great credit for this very good beer.” 

I do so willingly ; but lest any ingenuous traveller should find 
the ale of The Royal Oak not quite fulfil the expectations raised 
by this panegyric, I must remind him that it was pronounced af- 
ter the lieutenant had been walking for an hour along the banks 
of the Wyre, on a beautiful evening, in the company of a very 
pretty young lady. 

We had abolished bezique by this time. It had become too 
much of a farce. Playing four-handed bezique with partners is 
a clumsy contrivance ; and when we had endeavored to play k 
independently, the audacity of the lieutenant in sacrificing the 
game to Bell’s interests had got beyond a joke. So we had fallen 
back on whist ; and as we made those two ardent young noo- 
dles partners, they did their best. It wasn’t very good, to tell the 


THE WHITE OWLS OF GARSTANG. 


241 


truth. The lieutenant was as bad a whist-player as ever perplex- 
ed a partner ; but Bell could play a w^eak suit as well as another. 
My lady was rather pleased to find that the lieutenant was not a 
skilful card-player. She was deeply interested in the qualities of 
the young man whom she regarded in a premature fashion as 
Bell’s future husband. In fact, if she had only known how, she 
would have examined the young fellows who came about the 
house (Bell has had a pretty fair show of suitors in her time) 
as to the condition of the inner side of the thumb. It is a bad 
sign when that portion of the hand gets rather horny. A man 
might as well go about with a piece of chalk, marked “ Thurston 
& Co.,” in his waistcoat - pocket. But the lieutenant scarcely 
knew the difference between a cue and a pump-handle. 

We played late. The people of the inn, yielding to our en- 
treaties, had long ago gone to bed. When at length my lady 
and Bell also retired, the lieutenant rose from the table, stretched 
himself up his full length, and said, 

“ My good friend, I have much of a favor to ask from you. I 
will repay you for it many times again — I will sit up with you 
and smoke all night as often as you please, which I think is your 
great notion of enjoyment. But now I have a great many 
things to tell you, and the room is close. Let us go away for 
a walk.” 

It was only the strong nervous excitement of the young man 
that was longing for this outburst into the freedom of the cool 
air. He would have liked, then, to have started off at a rate of 
five miles an hour, and walked himself dead with fatigue. He 
was so anxious about it that at last we took a candle to the front- 
door, got the bolts undone, and then, leaving the candle and the 
matches where we knew we should find them, we went out into 
the night. 

By this time the moon had got well down into the south-west ; 
but there was still sufficient light to show us the cottages, the 
roads, and the trees. The night air was fresh and cool. As we 
started off on our vague ramble, a cock crew, and the sound 
seemed to startle the deep sleep of the landscape. We crossed 
over the canal-bridge, and plunged boldly out into the still coun- 
try, whither we knew not. 

Then he told me all the story ; beginning with the half-forgot- 
ten legend of Fraulein Fallersleben. I had had no idea that this 
16 


242 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


practical and hard-headed young Uhlan had been so deeply struck 
on either occasion ; but now at times there seemed to be a wild 
cry of ignorance in his confessions, as if he knew not what had 
happened to him, and what great mystery of life he was battling 
with. He described it as resembling somehow the unutterable 
sadness caused by the sudden coming of the spring — when, 
amidst all the glory and wonder and delight of this new thing, a 
vague unrest and longing takes possession of the heart, and will 
not be satisfied. All his life had been changed since his coming 
to England — turned in another direction, and made to depend, 
for any value that might be left in it, on a single chance. When 
he spoke of Bell perhaps marrying him, all the wild and beauti- 
ful possibilities of the future seemed to stretch out before him, 
until he was fairly at a loss for words. When he spoke of her 
finally going away from him, it was as of something he could not 
quite understand. It would alter all his life — how, he did not 
know ; and the new and wonderful consciousness that by such a 
circumstance the world would grow all different to him seemed 
to him a mystery beyond explication. He only knew that this 
strange thing had occurred ; that it had brought home to him 
once more the old puzzles about life that had made him wonder 
as a boy ; that he was drifting on to an irrevocable fate, now that 
the final decision was near. 

He talked rapidly, earnestly, heeding little the blunders and 
repetitions into which he constantly fell; and not all the vesuvi- 
ans in the world could have kept his cigar alight. He did not 
walk very fast, but he cut at the weeds and at the hedges with 
his stick, and doubtless startled with his blows many a sparrow 
and wren sleeping peacefully among the leaves. I cannot tell 
you a tithe of what he said. The story seemed as inexhaustible 
as the nebulous mystery that he was obviously trying to resolve 
as it hung around him in impalpable folds. When he came to the 
actual question whether Bell had given him to understand that 
she might reconsider her decision, he was more reticent. He 
would not reveal what she had said. But there was no pride or 
self-looking in the anxiety about the result whieh he frankly ex- 
pressed ; and it is probable that if Bell had heard him then, she 
would have learned more of his nature and sentiments than dur- 
ing any hour’s stroll under the supervision of her guardians. 

When at length we turned, a shock of wonder struck upon our 


chloe’s garland. 


243 


eyes. The day had begun to break in the east, and a cold wind 
was stirring. As yet, there was only a faint light in tbe dark 
sky ; but by-and-by a strange, clear whiteness rose up from be- 
hind the still landscape, and then a wild, cold, yellow radiance, 
against which the tall poplars looked intensely black, overspread 
the far regions of the east. Wan and unearthly seemed that 
metallic glare, even when a pale glimmer of red ran up and 
through it ; and, as yet, it looked like the sunrise of some other 
world, for neither man nor beast was awake to greet it ; and all 
the woods were as silent as the grave. When we got back to 
Garstang, the wind came chill along the gray stones, the birds 
were singing, and the glow of the sunrise was creeping over the 
chimneys and slates of the sleeping houses. We left this wonder- 
ful light outside, plunged into the warm and gloomy passage of 
the inn, and presently tumbled, tired and shivering, into bed. 


CHAPTER XX. 

chloe’s garland. 

“ The pride of every grove I chose, 

The violet sweet and lily fair, 

The dappled pink and blushing rose, 

To deck my charming Chloe’s hair. 

“At morn the nymph vouchsafed to place 
Upon her brow the various wreath ; 

The flowers less blooming than her face. 

The scent less fragrant than her breath. 

“ The flowers she wore along the day. 

And every nymph and shepherd said, 

That in her hair they looked more gay 
Than glowing in their native bed.” 

Is there any blue half so pure, and deep, and tender as that 
of the large crane’s-bill, the Geranium pratense of the botanists ? 
When Bell saw the beautiful, rich- colored blossoms in the tall 
hedge-rows, she declared we were already in the North Country, 
and must needs descend from the phaeton to gather some of the 
wild flowers ; and lo ! all around there was such a profusion that 
she stood bewildered before them. Everywhere about were the 
white stars of the stitchwort glimmering among the green of the 


244 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


goose-grass. The clear red blossoms of the campion shone here 
and there ; and the viscid petals of the Ragged Robin glimmered 
a bright crimson as they straggled through the thorny branches 
of the hawthorn. Here, too, was the beautiful hare-bell — the 
real “blue-bell of Scotland” — with its slender stem and its pellu- 
cid color ; and here was its bigger and coarser relative, the great 
hedge campanula, with its massive bells of azure, and its succulent 
stalk. There were yellow masses of snap-dragon ; and an abun 
dance of white and pink roses sweetening the air; and all the 
thousand wonders of a luxuriant vegetation. The lieutenant im- 
mediately jumped down. He harried the hedges as if they had 
been a province of the enemy’s country, and he in quest of forage 
and food. The delight of Bell in these wild flowers was extrava- 
gant, and when he had gathered for her every variety of hue that 
he could see, she chose a few of the blossoms and twisted them, 
with a laugh of light pleasure, into the breezy masses of her hair. 
Could a greater compliment have been paid him ? 

If it was not really the North Country which Bell so longed to 
enter, it was on the conflnes of it, and already many premonitory 
signs were visible. These tall hedge - rows, with their profusion 
of wild flowers, were a wonder. We crossed dark-brown streams, 
the picturesque banks of which were smothered in every sort of 
bush and herb and plant. At last, a breath of the morning air 
brings us a strange, new scent, that is far more grateful than that 
of any wreath of flowers, and at the same moment both Bell and 
Tita call out, 

“ Oh, there is the peat-smoke at last !” 

Peat -smoke it is, and presently we come upon the cottages 
which are sending abroad this fragrance into the air. They are 
hidden down in a dell by the side of a small river, and they are 
surrounded by low and thick elder-trees. Bell is driving. She 
will not even stop to look at this |,*icturesque little nook : it is 
but an outpost, and the promised land is nigh. 

The day, meanwhile, is gray and showery ; but sometimes a 
sudden burst of sunshine springs down on the far, flat landscape, 
and causes it to shine in the distance. We pass by many a 
stately hall and noble park — Bell, with the wild flowers in her 
hair, still driving until we reach the top of a certain height, and 
And a great prospect lying before us. The windy day has cleared 
away the light clouds in the west ; and there, under a belt of blue 


chloe’s garland. 


245 


sky, lies a glimmer of the sea. The plain of the landscape lead- 
ing down to it is divided by the estuary of the Lune ; and as you 
trace the course of the river, up through the country that lies 
gray under the gray portion of the heavens, some tall buildings 
are seen in the distance, and a fortress upon a height resembling 
some smaller Edinburgh Castle. We drive on through the gusty 
day — the tail of a shower sometimes overtaking us from the 
south and causing a hurried clamor for water-proofs, which have 
immediately to be set aside as the sun bursts forth again, and 
then we dive into a clean, bright, picturesque town, and find our- 
selves in front of The King’s Arms at Lancaster. 

Bell has taken the fiowers from her hair in nearing the abodes 
of men ; but she has placed them tenderly by the side of the 
bouquet that the lieutenant gathered for her, and now she gently 
asks a waiter for a tumbler of water, into which the blossoms are 
put. The lieutenant watches her every movement as anxiously as 
ever a Roman watched the skimmings and dippings of the bird 
whose fiight was to predict ruin or fortune to him. He had no 
opportunities to lose. Time was pressing on. That night we 
were to reach Kendal ; and there the enemy was lying in wait. 

Bell, at least, did not seem much to fear that meeting with 
Arthur. When she spoke of him to Tita, she was grave and 
thoughtful ; but when she spoke of Westmoreland, there was no 
qualification of her unbounded hope and delight. She would 
scarce look at Lancaster ; although, when we went up to the cas- 
tle, and had a walk round to admire the magnificent view from 
the walls, an unwonted stir in front of the great gate told us that 
something unusual had happened. The lieutenant went down, 
and mixed with the crowd. We saw him — a head and shoulders 
taller than the assemblage of men and women — speaking now to 
one and now to another ; and then at length he came back. 

“ Madame,” he says, “ there is something wonderful to be seen 
in the castle. All these people are pressing to get in.” 

“ Is it some soup-plate of Henry the Eighth that has been dis- 
interred ?” she asks, with a slight show of scorn. Indeed, she 
seldom loses an opportunity of sticking another needle into her 
mental image of that poor monarch. 

“ Oh no, it is something much more interesting. It is a mur- 
derer.” 

“ A murderer !” 


246 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“Yes, madame, but you need not feel alarmed. He is caged — ■ 
he will not bite. All these good people are going in to look at 
him.” 

“ I would not look at the horrid creature for worlds.” 

“ He is not a monster of iniquity,” I tell her. “ On the con- 
trary, he is a harmless creature, and deserves your pity. All he 
did was to kill his wife.” 

“And I suppose they will punish him with three months’ im- 
prisonment,” says Queen Tita ; “ whereas they would give him 
seven years if he had stolen a purse with half a crown in it.” 

“ Naturally. I consider three months a great deal too much, 
however. Doubtless she contradicted him.” 

“ But it is not true, Tita,” says Bell ; “ none of us knew that 
the murderer was in the castle until this moment. How can you 
believe that he killed his wife ?” 

“There may be a secret sympathy between these two,” says 
my lady, with a demure laugh in her eyes, “ which establishes a 
communication between them which we don’t understand. You 
know the theory of brain -waves. But it is hard that the one 
should be within the prison and the other without.” 

“Yes, it’s very hard for the one without. The one inside the 
prison has got rid of his torment, and escaped into comparative 
quiet.” 

She is a dutiful wife. She never retorts — when she hasn’t a 
retort ready. She takes my arm just as if nothing had happened, 
and we go down from the castle square into the town. And be 
hold ! as we enter the gray thoroughfare, a wonderful sight comes 
into view. Down the far white street, where occasional glimpses 
of sunlight are blown across by the wind, a gorgeous procession 
is seen to advance, glittering in silver, and colored plumes, and 
all the pomp and circumstance of a tournament. There is a cry 
of amazement throughout Lancaster; and from all points of the 
compass people hurry up. It is just two ; and men from the 
factories, flocking out for their dinner, stand amazed on the pave- 
ment. The procession comes along through the shadow and the 
sunlight like some gleaming and gigantic serpent with scales of 
silver and gold. There are noble knights, dressed in complete 
armor, and seated on splendid chargers. They bring with them 
spears, and banners, and other accessories of war, and their horses 
are shining with the magnificence of their trappings. There are 


chloe’s garland. 


247 


ladies wearing the historical costumes which are familiar to us in 
picture - galleries, and they are seated on cream - white palfreys, 
with flowing manes, and tails that sweep the ground. Then a 
resplendent palanquin appears in view, drawn by six yellow horses, 
and waving and trembling with plumes of pink and white. In- 
side this great and gilded carriage the Queen of Beauty sits en- 
throned, attended by ladies whose trains of silk and satin shine 
like the neck of a dove. And the while our eyes are still daz- 
zled with the glory of this slowly passing pageant, the end of it 
appears in the shape of a smart and natty little trap, driven by 
the proprietor of the circus in plain clothes. The anticlimax is 
too much. The crowd regard this wretched fellow with disdain. 
When a historical play is produced, and we are introduced to the 
majesty of war, and even shown the king’s tent on the battle- 
field, the common sutler is hidden out of sight. This wretched 
man’s obtrusion of himself was properly resented ; for the spec- 
tacle of the brilliant procession coming along the gray and white 
thoroughfares, with a breezy sky overshadowing or lighting it up, 
was sufficiently imposing, and ought not to have been destroyed 
by the vanity of a person in plain clothes who wanted to let us 
know that he was the owner of all this splendor, and who thought 
he ought to come last, as Noah did on going into the Ark. 

“ Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds !” That was the wish I 
knew lay deep down in Bell’s heart as we went away from Lan- 
caster. If Castor and Pollux did their work gallantly, we should 
sleep to-night in Kendal, and thereafter there would be abundant 
rest. This last day’s journey consisted of thirty -three miles — 
considerably above our average day’s distance — and we had accord- 
ingly cut it up into three portions. From Garstang to Lancaster 
is eleven miles ; from Lancaster to Burton is eleven miles ; from 
Burton to Kendal is eleven miles. Now, Burton is in Westmore- 
land ; and, once within her own county. Bell knew she was at home. 

’Twas a perilous sort of day in which to approach the region 
of the Northern Lakes. In the best of weather, the great mass 
of mountains that stand on the margin of the sea ready to con- 
dense any moist vapors that may float in from the west and 
south, play sudden tricks sometimes, and drown the holiday- 
makers whom the sun has drawn out of the cottages, houses, and 
hotels up in the deep valleys. But here there were abundant 
clouds racing and chasing each other like the folks who sped 


248 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


over Cannobie Lea to overtake the bride of young Lochinvar; 
and now and again the wind would drive down on us the flying 
fringes of one of these masses of vapor, producing a temporary 
fear. Bell cared least for these premonitions. She would not 
even cover herself with a cloak. Many a time we could see rain- 
drops glimmering in her brown hair and dripping from the flow- 
ers that she had again twisted in the folds ; but she sat erect and 
glad, with a tine color in her face that the wet breeze only height- 
ened. When we got up to Slyne and Bolton-le-Sands, and came 
in sight of the long sweep of Morecambe Bay, she paid no at- 
tention to the fact that all along the far margin of the sea the 
clouds had melted into a white belt of rain. It was enough for 
her that the sun was out there too ; sometimes striking with a 
pale silvery light on the plain of the sea, sometimes throwing a 
stronger color on the long curve of level sand. A wetter or 
windier sight never met the view of an apprehensive traveller 
than that great stretch of sea and sky. The glimmer of the sun 
only made the moisture in the air more apparent as the gray 
clouds were sent flying up from the south-west. We could not 
tell whether the sea was breaking white or not ; but the fierce 
blowing of the wind was apparent in the hurrying trails of cloud 
and the rapidly shifting shafts of sunlight that now and again 
shot down on the sands. 

“ Bell,” said Tita, with a little anxiety, “ you used to pride 
yourself on being able to forecast the weather when you lived up 
among the hills. Don’t you think we shall have a wet after- 
noon ? — and we have nearly twenty miles to go yet.” 

The girl laughed. 

“ Mademoiselle acknowledges we shall have a little rain,” said 
the lieutenant, with a grim smile. If Bell was good at studying 
the appearances of the sky, he had acquired some skill in reading 
the language of her eloquent face. 

“ Why,” says one of the party, “ a deaf man down in a coal- 
pit could tell what sort of afternoon we shall have. The wind is 
driving the clouds up. The hills are stopping them on the way. 
When we enter Westmoreland we shall find the whole forces of 
the rain-fiends drawn out in array against us. But that is noth- 
ing to Bell, so long as we enter Westmoreland.” 

“ Ah, you shall see,” remarks Bell ; “ we may have a little rain 
this evening.” 


chloe’s garland. 


249 


“ Yes, that is very likely,” said the lieutenant, who seemed 
greatly tickled by this frank admission. 

“ But to-morrow, if this strong wind keeps up all night, would 
you be astonished to find Kendal with its stone houses all shining 
white in the sun ?” 

“ Yes, I should be astonished.” 

“You must not provoke the prophetess,” says my lady, who 
is rather nervous about rainy weather, “ or she will turn round on 
you and predict all sorts of evil.” 

We could not exactly tell when we crossed the border line of 
Westmoreland, or doubtless Bell would have jumped down from 
the phaeton to kneel and kiss her native soil ; but at all events, 
when we reached the curious little village of Burton we knew we 
were then in Westmoreland, and Bell ushered us into the ancient 
hostlery of The Royal Oak as if she had been the proprietress of 
that and all the surrounding country. In former days Burton 
was doubtless a place of importance, when the stage-coaches stop- 
ped here before plunging into the wild mountain country ; and 
in the inn, which remains pretty much what it was in the last 
generation, were abundant relics of the past. When the lieuten- 
ant and I returned from the stables to the old-fashioned little par- 
lor and museum of the place, we found Bell endeavoring to get 
some quivering, trembling, jangling notes out of the piano, that 
was doubtless a fine piece cJf furniture at one time. A piece of 
yellow ivory informed the beholder that this venerable instrument 
had been made by “ Thomas Tomkison, Dean Street, Soho, Man- 
ufacturer to his Royal Highness the Prince Regent.” And what 
was this that Bell was hammering out? 

“ The standard on the braes o’ Mar 
Is up and streaming rarely ! 

The gathering pipe on Lochnagar 
Is sounding lang and clearly ! 

The Highlandmen, from hill and glen. 

In martial hue, wi’ bonnets blue, 

Wi’ belted plaids and burnished blades, 

Are coming late and early.” 

How the faded old instrument groaned and quivered as if it 
were struggling to get up some martial sentiment of its half-for- 
gotten youth ! It did its best to pant after that rapid and stir- 
ring air, and labored and jangled in a pathetic fashion through 
the chords. It seemed like some poor old pensioner, decrepit 


S50 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

and feeble -eyed, who sees a regiment passing witb their band 
playing, and who tries to straighten himself up as he hears the 
tread of the men, and would fain step out to the sound of the 
music, but that his thin legs tremble beneath him. The wretch- 
ed old piano struggled hard to keep up with the Gathering of the 
Clans as they hastened on to the braes o’ Mar : 

“ Wha wouldna join our noble chief, 

The Drummond and Glengarry, 

Macgregor, Murray, Kollo, Keith, 

Panmure, and gallant Harry ! 

Macdonald’s men. 

Clan Ranald’s men, 

M‘Kenzie’s men, 

MacGilvray’s men, 

Strathallan’s men. 

The Lowland men 
Of Callander and Airlie !” 

until my lady put her hand gently on Bell’s shoulder, and said, 

“ My dear, this is worse than eating green apples.” 

Bell shut down the lid. 

“It is time for this old thing to be quiet,” she said. “The 
people who sung with it when it was in its prime, they cannot 
sing any more now, and it has earned its rest.” 

Bell uttered these melancholy words as she turned to look out 
of the window. It was rather a gloomy afternoon. There was 
less wind visible in the motion of the clouds, but in place of the 
flying and hurrying masses of vapor an ominous pall of gray was 
visible, and the main thoroughfare of Burton - in - Kendal was 
gradually growing moister under a slow rain. Suddenly the girl 
said, 

“ Is it possible for Arthur to have reached Kendal ?” 

The lieutenant looked up, with something of a frown on his 
face. 

“Yes,” I say to her, “if he keeps up the pace with which he 
started. Thirty miles a day in a light dog-cart will not seriously 
damage the major’s cob, if only he gets a day’s rest now and 
again.” 

“ Then perhaps Arthur may be coming along this road just 
now ?” 

“ He may ; but it is hardly likely. He would come over by 
Kirkby Lonsdale.” 

“I think we should be none the worse for his company if he 


CHLOE'S GARLAND. 


251 


were to arrive,” said Tita, with a little apprehension, “ for it will 
be dark long before we get to Kendal — and on such a night, too, 
as we are likely to have.” 

“Then let us start at once, madame,” said the lieutenant. 
“ The horses will be ready to be put in harness now, I think ; and 
they must have as much time for the rest of the journey as we 
can give them. Then the water -proofs — I will have them all 
taken out, and the rugs. We shall want much more than we 
have, I can assure you of that. And the lamps — we shall want 
them too.” 

The lieutenant walked off to the stables with these weighty af- 
fairs of state possessing his mind. He was as anxious to pre- 
serve these two women from suffering a shower of rain as if he 
thought they were made of brides-cake. Out in the yard we 
found him planning the disposal of the rugs with the eye of a 
practised campaigner, and taking every boy and man in the place 
into his confidence. Whatever embarrassment his imperfect Eng- 
lish might cause him in a drawing-room, there was no need to 
guard his speech in a stable -yard. But sometimes our Uhlan 
was puzzled. What could he make, for example, of the follow- 
ing sentence, addressed to him by a worthy hostler at Garstang ? 
“Taas, an ah gied'n a affhooket o’ chilled waiter after ahJd wesh- 
en Of the relations of the lieutenant with the people whom 

he thus casually encountered, it may be said generally that he was 
“ hail fellow well met,” with any man who seemed of a frank 
and communicable disposition. With a good-natured landlord 
or groom, he would stand for any length of time talking about 
horses, their food, their ways, and the best methods of doctoring 
them. But when he encountered a sulky hostler, the unfortunate 
man had an evil time of it. His temper was not likely to be im- 
proved by the presence of this lounging young soldier, who stood 
whistling at the door of the stable and watching that every bit of 
the grooming was performed to a nicety, who examined the qual- 
ity of the oats, and was not content with the hay, and who calm- 
ly stood by with his cigar in his mouth until he had seen the ani- 
mals eat every grain of corn that had been put in the manger. 
The bad temper, by-the-way, was not always on the side of the 
hostler. 

A vague proposition that we should remain at Burton for that 
night was unanimously rejected. Come what might, we should 


252 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

start in Kendal with a clear day before us ; and what mattered 
this running through our final stage in rain? A more feasible 
proposition, that both the women should sit in front, so as to 
get the benefit of the hood, was rejected because neither of them 
would assume the responsibility of driving in the dark. But here 
a new and strange difficulty occurred. Of late. Bell and the lieu- 
tenant had never sat together in the phaeton. Now, the lieuten- 
ant declared it was much more safe that the horses should be 
driven by their lawful owner, who was accustomed to them. Ac- 
cordingly, my post was in front. Thereupon Bell, with many 
protestations of endearment, insisted on Queen Tita having the 
shelter of the hood. Bell, in fact, would not get up until she had 
seen my lady safely ensconced there and swathed up like a mum- 
my; it followed, accordingly, that Bell and her companion were 
hidden from us by the hood ; and the last of our setting-out ar- 
rangements was simply this : that the lieutenant absolutely and 
firmly refused to wear his water-proof, because, as he said, it would 
only have the effect of making the rain run in streams on to Bell’s 
tartan plaid. The girl put forward all manner of entreaties in 
vain. The foolish young man — he was on the headstrong side 
of thirty — would not hear of it. 

So we turned the horses’ heads to the north. Alas ! over the 
mountainous country before us there lay an ominous darkness of 
sky. As we skirted Curwen Woods, and drove by within sight 
of Clawthorpe Fell, the road became more hilly and more lonely, 
and it seemed as if we were to plunge into an unknown region 
inhabited only by mountains and hanging clouds. Nevertheless 
we could hear Bell laughing and chatting to the lieutenant, and 
talking about what we should have to endure before we got to 
Kendal. As the wind rose slightly, and blew the light waves of 
her laughter about, Tita called through to her, and asked her to 
sing again that Gathering of the Clans on the breezy braes o’ Mar. 
But what would the wild mountain-spirits have done to us had 
they heard the twanging of a guitar up in this dismal region, to 
say nothing of the rain that would have destroyed the precious 
instrument forever? For it was now pattering considerably on 
the top of the hood, and the wind had once more begun to blow. 
The darkness grew apace. The winding gray thread of the road 
took us up hill and down dale, twisting through a variegated 
country, of which we could see little but the tall hedges on each 


chloe’s garland. 


253 


side of us. The rain increased. The wind blew it about, and 
moaned through the trees, and made a sound in the telegraph- 
wires overhead. These tall gray poles were destined to be an 
excellent guide to us. As the gloom gathered over us, we grew 
accustomed to the monotonous rising and falling of the pale 
road, while here and there we encountered a great pool of water, 
which made the younger of the horses swerve from time to time. 
By-and-by we knew it would be impossible to make out any fin- 
ger-post; so that the murmuring of the telegraph-wires in the 
wind promised to tell us if we were still keeping the correct route 
to Kendal. 

So we plunged on in the deepening twilight, splashing into the 
shallow pools, and listening to the whistling of the wind and the 
hissing of the rain. Bell had made no attempt to call out the 
clans on this wild night, and both of the young folks had for 
the most part relapsed into silence, unless when they called to us 
some consolatory message or assurance that, on the whole, they 
rather enjoyed getting wet. But at last the lieutenant proposed 
that he should get down and light the lamps ; and, indeed, it was 
high time. 

He got down. He came round to the front. Why the strange 
delay of his movements ? He went round again to his seat, kept 
searching about for what seemed an unconscionable time, and 
then, coming back, said, rather indifferently, 

“ Do you happen to have a match with you ?” 

“ No,” said I ; and at the same moment Tita broke into a 
bright laugh. 

She knew the shame and mortification that were now on the 
face of the lieutenant, if only there had been more light to see 
him as he stood there. To have an old campaigner tricked in 
this way ! He remained irresolute for a second or two ; and then 
he said, in accents of profound vexation, 

“It is such stupidity as I never saw. I did leave my case in 
the inn. Madame, you must pardon me this ridiculous thing ; 
and we must drive on until we come to a house.” 

A house! The darkness had now come on so rapidly that 
twenty houses would scarcely have been visible, unless with yel- 
low lights burning in their windows. There was nothing for it 
but to urge on our wild career as best we might; while we 
watched the telegraph-posts to tell us how the road went, and 


254 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Castor and Pollux, with the wet streaming down them, whirled 
the four wheels through the water and mud. 

Tita had been making merry over our mishap, but the joculari- 
ty died away in view of the fact that at every moment there was 
a chance of our driving into a ditch. She forgot to laugh in her 
efforts to make out the road before us; and at last, when we 
drove into an avenue of trees under which there was pitch-black- 
ness, and as we felt that the horses were going down a hill, she 
called out to stop, so that one of us should descend and explore 
the way. 

A blacker night has not occurred since the separating of light 
and darkness at the Creation ; and when the lieutenant had got 
to the horses’ heads, it was with the greatest difficulty he could 
induce them to a:o forward and down the hill. He had himself 
to feel his way in a very cautious fashion ; and, indeed, his man- 
aging to keep the phaeton somewhere about the middle of the 
road until we had got from under this black avenue must be re- 
garded as a feat. He had scarcely got back into his seat, when 
the rain, which had been coming down pretty heavily, now fell 
in torrents. We could hear it hissing in the pools of the road, 
and all around us on the trees and hedges, while the phaeton 
seemed to be struggling through a water-fall. No plaids, rugs, 
mackintoshes, or other device of man could keep this deluge out ; 
and Tita, with an air of calm resignation, made the remark that 
one of her shoes had come off and floated away. To crown all, 
we suddenly discovered that the telegraph-posts had abandoned 
us, and gone off along another road. 

I stopped the horses. To miss one’s way in the wilds of West- 
moreland on such a night was no joke. 

“ Now, Bell, what has become of your knowledge of this dis- 
trict ? Must we go back and follow the telegraph - wires ? Or 
shall we push on on chance ?” 

“ I can neither see nor speak for the rain,” cries Bell out of the 
darkness. “ But I think we ought to follow the telegraph-wires. 
They are sure to lead to Kendal.” 

“ With your permission, mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant, who 
was once more down in the road, “ I think it would be a pity to go 
back. If we drive on, we must come to a village somewhere.” 

“ They don’t happen so often in Westmoreland as you might 
expect,” says Bell, despondently. 


chloe’s garland. 


255 


“ If you will wait here, then, I will go forward and see if I can 
find a house,” says the lieutenant, at which Queen Tita laughs 
again, and says we should all be washed away before he returned. 

The lieutenant struggles into his seat. We push on blindly. 
The rain is still thundering down on us ; and we wonder whether 
we are fated to find ourselves in the early dawn somewhere about 
Wast Water or Coniston. 

About two hours before midnight^ Columbus^ standing on the 
forecastle, observed a light at a distance, and privately pointed it 
out to Queen Titania. 

“ ’Tis a turnpike, as I am a living navigator ?” exclaimed the 
adventurous man. 

A gun would have been fired from the deck of the Pinta to 
announce these joyful tidings, only that the rain had washed 
away our powder. But now that we were cheered with the sight 
of land, we pushed ahead gallantly ; the light grew in size and 
intensity ; there could be no doubt this wild region was inhabited 
by human beings ; and at last a native appeared, who addressed 
us in a tongue which we managed with some difficulty to under- 
stand, and, having exacted from us a small gift, he allowed us to 
proceed. 

Once more we plunge into darkness and wet, but we know that 
Kendal is near. Just as we are approaching the foot of the hill, 
however, on which the town stands, a wild shriek from Titania 
startles the air. The black shadow of a dog-cart is seen to swerve 
across in front of the horses’ heads, and just skims by our wheels. 
The wrath that dwelt in my lady’s heart with regard to the two 
men in this phantom vehicle need not be expressed; for what 
with the darkness of the trees, and the roaring of the wind and 
rain, and the fact of these two travellers coming at a fine pace 
along the wrong side of the road, we just escaped a catastrophe. 

But we survived that danger, too, as we survived the strife of 
the elements. We drove up into the town. We wheeled round 
by the archway of still another King’s Arms; and presently a 
half-drowned party of people, with their eyes, grown accustomed 
to the darkness, wholly bewildered with the light, were standing 
in the warm* and yellow glare of the hotel. There was a flutter- 
ing of dripping water-proofs, a pulling asunder of soaked plaids, 
and a drying of wet and gleaming cheeks that were red with the 
rain. The commotion raised by our entrance was alarming. You 


256 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

would have thought we had taken possession of this big, warm, 
comfortable, old-fashioned inn. A thousand servants seemed to 
be scampering about the house to assist us ; and by-and-by, when 
all those moist garments had been taken away, and other and 
warmer clothing put on, and a steaming and fragrant banquet 
placed on the table, you should have seen the satisfaction that 
dwelt on every face. Arthur had not come — at least, no one had 
been making inquiries for us. There was nothing for us but to 
attack the savory feast, and relate with laughter and with glad- 
ness all the adventures of the day, until you would have thought 
that the grave mother of those two boys at Twickenham had 
grown merry with the Champagne, whereas she had not yet tasted 
the wine that was frothing and creaming in her glass. 


CHAPTER XXL 

ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 

“ 0 meekest dove 

Of Heaven ! 0 Cynthia, ten times bright and fair 1 
From thy blue throne, now filling all the air. 

Glance but one little beam of tempered light 
Into my bosom, that the dreadful might 
And tyranny of love be somewhat scared.” 

It is a pleasant thing, especially in holiday-time, when one hap- 
pens to have gone to bed with the depressing consciousness that 
outside the house the night is wild and stormy — rain pouring 
ceaselessly down, and the fine weather sped away to the south — 
to catch a sudden glimmer, just as one opens one’s eyes in the 
morning, of glowing green, where the sunlight is quivering on 
the waving branches of the trees. The new day is a miracle of 
freshness. The rain has washed the leaves, and the wind is shak- 
ing and rustling them in the warm light. You throw open the 
window, and the breeze that comes blowing in is sweet with the 
smell of wet roses. It is a new, bright, joyous day ; and the rain 
and the black night have fled together. 

Bell’s audacity in daring to hope we might have- a fine morn- 
ing after that wild evening had almost destroyed our belief in 
her weather foresight ; but sure enough, when we got up on the 
following day, the stone houses of Kendal were shining in the 


ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 


257 


sun, and a bright light coloring up the faces of the country peo- 
ple who had come into the town on early business. And what 
was this we heard? — a simple and familiar air that carried Tita 
back to that small church in Surrey over which she presides — 
sung carelessly and lightly by a young lady who certainly did not 
know that she could be overheard, 

“ Hark, hark, my soul, angelic songs are swelling 
O’er earth’s green fields and ocean’s wave-beat shore.” 

Bell was at her orisons ; but as the hymn only came to us in fit- 
ful and uncertain snatches, we concluded that the intervals were 
filled up by that light-hearted young woman twisting up the 
splendid folds of her hair. There was no great religious fervor 
in her singing, to be sure. Sometimes the careless songstress for- 
got to add the words, and let us have fragments of the pretty air, 
of which she was particularly fond. But there was no reason 
at all why this pious hymn should be suddenly forsaken for the 
“ rataplan, rataplan, rataplan — rataplan, plan, plan, plan, plan ” 
of the “ Daughter of the Regiment.” 

When we went down -stairs. Bell was gravely perusing the 
morning papers. At this time the Government were hurrying 
their Ballot Bill through the House, and the daily journals were 
full of clauses, amendments, and divisions. Bell wore rather a 
puzzled look ; but she was so deeply interested — whether with 
the Parliamentary Summary or the Fashionable Intelligence, can 
only be guessed — that she did not observe our entering the room. 
My lady went gently forward to her, and said, 

“ Hark, hark, my soul, angelic songs are swelling 
O’er earth’s green fields — ” 

The girl looked up with a start, and with a little look of alarm. 

“Young ladies,” observed Tita, “ who have a habit of humming 
airs during their toilet ought to be sure that their room is not 
separated by a very thin partition from any other room.” 

“ If it was only you, I don’t care.” 

“ It mightn’t have been only me.” 

“ There is no great harm in a hymn,” says Bell. 

“ But when one mixes up a hymn with that wicked song which 
Maria and the Sergeant sing together ? Bell, we will forgive you 
everything this morning. You are quite a witch with the weath- 
17 


258 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


er, and you shall have a kiss for bringing us such a beautiful 
day.” 

The morning salutation was performed. 

“ Isn’t there enough of that to go round ?” says the third per- 
son of the group. “ Bell used to kiss me dutifully every morn- 
ing. But a French writer has described a young lady as a creat- 
ure that ceases to kiss gentlemen at twelve and begins again at 
twenty.” 

“A French writer!” says Tita. “No French writer ever said 
anything so impertinent and so stupid. The French are a culti- 
vated nation, and their wit never takes the form of rudeness.” 

A nation or a man — it is all the same : attack either, and my 
lady is ready with a sort of formal warranty of character. 

“ But why, Tita,” says Bell, with just a trifle of protest in her 
voice, “ why do you always praise the French nation ? Other na- 
tions are as good as they are.” 

The laughter that shook the coffee-room of The King’s Arms 
in Kendal, when this startling announcement was made to us, can- 
not be conveyed in words. There was something so boldly in- 
genuous in Bell’s protest that even Tita laughed till the tears 
stood in her eyes, and then she kissed Bell, and asked her pardon, 
and remarked that she was ready to acknowledge at any moment 
that the German nation was as good as the French nation. 

“I did not mean anything of the kind,” says Bell, looking 
rather shamefaced. “ What does it matter to me what any one 
thinks of the German nation ?” 

That was a true observation, at least. It did not matter to her, 
nor to anybody. The anthropomorphic abstractions which we 
call nations are very good pegs to hang prejudices on ; but they 
do not suffer or gain much by any opinion we may form of their 
“ characteristics.” 

“ Where is Count Von Rosen ?” says Tita. 

“ I do not know,” answered Bell, with an excellent assumption 
of indifference. “ I have not seen him this morning. Probably 
he will come in and tell us that he has been to Windermere.” 

“ No, mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant, entering the room at 
the same moment, “ I have not been to Windermere, but I am 
very anxious to go, for the morning is very fresh and good, and 
is it possible to say that it will remain fine all the day ? We may 
start directly after breakfast. I have looked at the horses ; they 


ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 


259 


are all very well, and liave suffered nothing from the rain ; they 
are looking contented and comfortable after the bran-mash of last 
night, and to-morrow they will start again very well.” 

“And you have heard nothing of Arthur?” says my lady. 
“No.” 

Was the lieutenant likely to have been scouring the country in 
search of that young man ? 

“ It is very strange. If he found himself unable to get here 
by the time he expected to meet us, it is a wonder he did not 
send on a message. I hope he has met with no accident.” 

“ No, there is no fear, madame,” said the lieutenant ; “ he will 
overtake us soon. He may arrive to-night, or to-morrow before 
we go ; he cannot make a mistake about finding us. But you 
do not propose to wait anywhere for him ?” 

“ No,” I say, decisively, “ we don’t. Or if we do wait for him, 
it will not be in Kendal.” 

The lieutenant seemed to think that Arthur would overtake 
us soon enough, and need not further concern us. But my lady 
appeared to be a little anxious about the safety of the young 
man until it was shown us that, after all, Arthur might have 
been moved to give the major’s cob a day’s rest somewhere, in 
which case he could not possibly have reached Kendal by this 
time. 

We go out into the sunlit and breezy street. We can almost 
believe Bell that there is a peculiar sweetness in the Westmore- 
land air. We lounge about the quaint old town, which, perched 
on the steep slope of a hill, has sometimes those curious juxta^ 
positions of door-step and chimney-pot which are familiar to the 
successive terraces of Dartmouth. We go down to the green 
banks of the river ; and the lieutenant is bidden to observe how 
rapid and clear the brown stream is, even after coming through 
the dyeing and bleaching works. He is walking on in front with 
Bell. He does not strive to avoid her now: on the contrary, 
they are inseparable companions ; but my lady puzzles herself in 
vain to discover what are their actual relations towards each oth- 
er at this time. They do not seem anxious or dissatisfied. They 
appear to have drifted back into those ordinary friendly terms of 
intercourse which had marked their setting out ; but how is this 
possible after what occurred in Wales ? As neither has said any- 
thing to us about these things, nothing is known ; these confi- 


260 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


dences have been invariably voluntary, and my lady is quite well 
pleased that Bell should manage her own affairs. 

Certainly, if Bell was at this time being pressed to decide be- 
tween Von Rosen and Arthur, that unfortunate youth from Twick- 
enham was suffering grievously from an evil fortune. Consider 
what advantages the lieutenant had in accompanying the girl into 
this dream-land of her youth, when her heart was opening out to 
all sorts of tender recollections, and when, to confer a great grati- 
fication upon her, you had only to say that you were pleased with 
Westmoreland, and its sunlight, and its people and scenery. What 
adjectives that perfervid Uhlan may have been using — and he was 
rather a good hand at expressing his satisfaction with anything — 
we did not try to hear ; but Bell wore her brightest and happiest 
looks. Doubtless the lieutenant was telling her that there was no 
water in the world could turn out such brilliant colors as those 
we saw bleaching on the meadows; that no river in the world 
ran half as fast as the Kent; and that no light could compare 
with the light of a Westmoreland sky in beautifying and clarify- 
ing the varied hues of the landscape that lay around. He was 
greatly surprised with the old-fashioned streets when we had 
clambered up to the town again. He paid particular attention to 
the railway-station. Wlien a porter caught a boy back from the 
edge of the platform, and angrily said to him, “ Wut’s thee doin’ 
theear, an’ the traain a-coomin’ oop ?” he made as though he un- 
derstood the man. This was Bell's country ; and everything in 
it was- profoundly interesting. 

However, when the train had once got away from the station, 
and we found ourselves being carried through the fresh and pleas- 
ant landscape, with a cool wind blowing in at the window, and 
all the trees outside bending and rustling in the breeze, it was not 
merely out of compliment to Bell that he praised the brightness 
of the day and the beauty of the country around. 

“And it is so comforting to think of the horses enjoying a 
day’s thorough rest,” said Tita; “for when we start again to- 
morrow, they will have to attack some hard work.” 

“ Only at first,” said Bell, who was always ready to show that 
she knew the road. “ The first mile or so is hilly ; but after that 
the road goes down to Windermere and runs along by the lake 
to Ambleside. It is a beautiful drive through the trees ; and if 
we get a day like this — ” 


ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 


261 


No wonder she turned to look out with pride and delight on 
the glowing picture that lay around us, the background of which 
had glimpses of blue mountains lying pale and misty under light 
masses of cloud. The small stations we passed were smothered 
in green foliage. Here and there we caught sight of a brown 
rivulet, or a long avenue of trees arching over a white road. And 
then, in an incredibly short space of time, we found ourselves out- 
side the Windermere station, standing in the open glare of the 
day. 

For an instant, a look of bewilderment, and even of disappoint- 
ment, appeared on the girl’s face. Evidently, she did not know 
the way. The houses that had sprung np of late years were 
strangers to her, strangers that seemed to have no business there. 
But whereas the new buildings, and the cutting of terraces and 
alterations of gardens, were novel and perplexing phenomena, the 
general features of the neighborhood remained the same ; and af- 
ter a momentary hesitation she hit upon the right path up to El- 
leray, and thereafter was quite at home. 

Now there rests in Bell’s mind a strange superstition that she 
can remember, as a child, having sat upon Christopher North’s 
knee. The story is wholly impossible and absurd; for Wilson 
died in the year in which Bell was born ; but she nevertheless pre- 
serves the fixed impression of having seen the kingly old man, 
and wondered at his long hair and great collar, and listened to 
his talking to her. Out of what circumstance in her childhood 
this curious belief may have arisen is a psychological conundrum 
which Tita and I have long ago given up ; and Bell herself can- 
not even suggest any other celebrated person of the neighborhood 
who may, in her infancy, have produced a profound impression 
on her imagination, and caused her to construct a confused picture 
into which the noble figure of the old professor had somehow and 
subsequently been introduced ; but none the less she asks us how 
it is that she can remember exactly the expression of his face and 
eyes as he looked down on her, and how even to this day she can 
recall the sense of awe with which she regarded him, even as he 
was trying to amuse her. 

The lieutenant knew all about this story ; and it was with a 
great interest that he went up to Elleray Cottage, and saw the 
famous chestnut which Christopher North has talked of to the 
world. It was as if some relative of Bell’s had lived in this place 


262 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


- — some foster-father or grand-uncle who had watched her youth ; 
and who does not know the strange curiosity with which a lover 
listens to stories of the childhood of his sweetheart, or meets 
any one who knew her in those old and half-forgotten years ? It 
seems a wonderful thing to him that he should not have known 
her then ; that all the world at that time, so far as he knew, was 
unconscious of her magical presence ; and he seeks to make him- 
self familiar with her earliest years, to nurse the delusion that he 
has known her always, and that ever since her entrance into the 
world she has belonged to him. In like manner, let two lovers, 
who have known each other for a number of years, begin to re- 
veal to each other when the first notion of love entered their 
mind ; they will insensibly shift the date farther and farther back, 
as if they would blot out the pallid and colorless time in which 
they were stupid enough not to have found out their great affec- 
tion for each other. The lieutenant was quite vexed that he knew 
little of Professor Wilson’s works. He said he would get them 
all the moment that he went back to London ; and when Bell, as 
we lingered about the grounds of Elleray, told him how that there 
was a great deal of Scotch in the books, and how the old man 
whom she vaguely recollected had written about Scotland, and 
how that she had about as great a longing, when she was buried 
away down South in the commonplaceness of London and Surrey, 
to smell the heather and see the lovely glens and the far-reaching 
sea-lakes of the Highlands, as to reach her own and native West- 
moreland, the lieutenant began to nurture a secret affection for 
Scotland, and wondered when we should get there. 

I cannot describe in minute detail our day’s ramble about 
Windermere. It was all a dream to us. Many years had come 
and gone since those of us who were familiar with the place had 
been there ; and somehow, half unconsciously to ourselves, we 
kept trying to get away from the sight of new people and new 
houses, and to discover the old familiar features of the neighbor- 
hood that we had loved. Once or twice there was in Tita’s eyes 
a moisture she could scarce conceal ; and the light of gladness on 
Bell’s bright face was preserved there chiefly through her efforts 
to instruct the lieutenant, which made her forget old memories. 
She was happy, too, in hitting on the old paths. When we went 
down from Elleray through the private grounds that lie along the 
side of the hill, she found no difficulty whatever in showing us 


ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 


263 


how we were to get to the lake. She took us down through a 
close and sweet-smelling wood, where the sunlight only struggled 
at intervals through the innumerable stems and leaves, and lighted 
up the brackens, and other ferns and underwood. There was a 
stream running close by, that plashed and gurgled along its stony 
channel. As we got farther down the slope, the darkness of the 
avenue increased; and then all at once, at the end of the trees, 
we came in sight of a blinding glare of white — the level waters of 
the lake. 

And then, when we left the wood and stood on the shore, all 
the fair plain of Windermere lay before us, wind-swept and trou- 
bled, with great dashes of blue along its surface, and a breezy 
sky moving overhead. Near at hand there were soft green hills 
shining in the sunlight ; and, farther off, long and narrow prom- 
ontories, piercing out into the water, with their dark line of trees 
growing almost black against the silver glory of the lake. But 
then again the hurrying wind would blow away the shadow of the 
cloud ; a beam of sunlight would run along the line of trees, mak- 
ing them glow green above the blue of the water ; and from this 
moving and shifting and shining picture we turned to the far and 
ethereal masses of the Langdale Pikes and the mountains above 
Ambleside, which changed as the changing clouds were blown 
over from the west. 

We got a boat and went out into the wilderness of water and 
wind and sky. Now we saw the reedy shores behind us, and the 
clear and shallow water at the brink of which we had been stand- 
ing receiving the troubled reflection of the woods. Out here the 
beautiful islands of Lady Holm, Thompson’s Holm, and Belle Isle 
were shimmering in green. Far up there in the north the slopes 
and gullies of the great mountains were showing a thousand hues 
of soft velvet-like grays and blues, and even warming up into a 
pale yellowish-green, where a ray of the sunlight struck the lower 
slopes. Over by Furness Fells the clouds lay in heavier masses, 
and moved slowly ; but elsewhere there was a brisk motion over 
the lake that changed its beauties even as one looked at them. 

“ Mademoiselle,” observed the lieutenant, as if a new revelation 
had broken upon him, “ all that you have said about your native 
country is true ; and now I understand why that you did weary 
in London, and think very much of your own home.” 

Perhaps he thought, too, that there was but one county in Eng- 


264 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON*. 

land, or in the world, that could have produced this handsome, 
courageous, generous, and true-hearted English girl — for such are 
the exaggerations that lovers cherish. 

We put into Bowness, and went up to The Crown hotel there. 
In an instant — as rapidly as Alloway Kirk became dark when 
Tam o’ Shanter called out — the whole romance of the day went 
clean out and was extinguished. How any of God’s creatures 
could have come to dress themselves in such fashion, amidst such 
scenery, our young Uhlan professed himself unable to tell ; but 
here were men — apparently in their proper senses — wearing such 
comicalities of jackets and resplendent knickerbockers as would 
have made a harlequin blush, with young ladies tarred and feath- 
ered, as it were, with staring stripes and alarming petticoats, and 
sailors’ hats of straw. Why should the borders of a lake be pro* 
vocative of these mad eccentricities? Who that has wandered 
about the neighborhoods of Zurich, Lucerne, and Thun does not 
know the wild freaks which Englishmen (far more than English- 
women) will permit to themselves in dress? We should have 
fancied those gentlemen with the variegated knickerbockers had 
just come down from the Righi (by rail) if they had had alpen- 
stocks and snow-spectacles with them ; and, indeed, it was a mat- 
ter for surprise that these familiar appurtenances were absent 
from the shores of Windermere. 

My lady looked at the strange people rather askance. 

“ My dear,” says Bell, in an undertone, “ they are quite harm- 
less.” 

We had luncheon in a corner of the great room. Dinner was 
already laid ; and our plain meal seemed to borrow a certain rich- 
ness from that long array of colored wine-glasses. Bell consid- 
ered it rather pretty ; but my lady began to wonder how much 
crystal the servants would have broken by the time we got back 
to Surrey. Then we went down to the lake again, stepped into a 
small steamer, and stood out to sea. 

It was now well on in the afternoon ; and the masses of cloud 
that came rolling over from the west and south-west, when they 
clung to the summits of the mountains, threw a deeper shadow 
on the landscape beneath. Here and there, too, as the evening 
wore on, and we had steamed up within sight of the small island 
that is called Seamew Crag, we occasionally saw one of the great 
heaps of cloud get melted down into a gray mist that for a few 


ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 


265 


minutes blotted out the side of a mountain. Meanwhile the sun 
had also got well up to the north-west; and as the clouds came 
over and swept about the peaks of Langdale, a succession of the 
wildest atmospheric effects became visible. Sometimes a great 
gloom would overspread the whole landscape, and we began to 
anticipate a night of rain ; then a curious saffron glow would ap- 
pear behind the clouds; then a great smoke of gray would be 
seen to creep down the hill, and finally the sunlight would break 
through, shining on the retreating vapor and on the wet sides of 
the hills. Once or twice a light trail of cloud passed across the 
lake and threw a slight shower of rain upon us; but when we 
got to Ambleside, the clouds had been for the most part driven 
by, and the clear heavens, irradiated by a beautiful twilight, tempt- 
ed us to walk back to Windermere village by the road. 

You may suppose that that was a pleasant walk for those two 
young folks. Everything had conspired to please Bell during the 
day, and she was in a dangerously amiable mood. As the dusk 
fell, and the white water gleamed through the trees by the mar- 
gin of the lake, we walked along the winding road without meet- 
ing a solitary creature ; and Queen Titania gently let our young 
friends get on ahead, so that we could only see the two dark fig- 
ures pass underneath the dark avenues of trees. 

“ Did you ever see a girl more happy ?” she says. 

“Yes, once — at Eastbourne.” 

Tita laughs, in a low, pleased way ; for she is never averse to 
recalling these old days. 

“ I was very stupid then,” she says. 

That is a matter upon which she, of course, ought to be able 
to speak. It would be unbecoming tc interfere with the right of 
private judgment. 

“ Besides,” she remarks, audaciously, “ I did not mean half I 
said. Don’t you imagine I meant half what I said. It was all 
making fun, you know, wasn’t it ?” 

“ It has been deadly earnest since.” 

“ Poor thing !” she says, in the most sympathetic way ; and 
there is no saying what fatal thunder-bolt she might have launch- 
ed, had not her attention been called away just then. 

For as we went along in the twilight it seemed to us that the 
old moss-covered wall was beginning to throw a slight shadow, 
and that the pale road was growing warmer in hue. Moved by 


266 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


the same impulse, we turned suddenly to the lake, and, lo ! out 
there beyond the trees a great yellow glory was lying on the bos- 
om of Windermere, and somewhere, hidden by the dark branch- 
es, the low moon had come into the clear violet sky. We walked 
on until we came to a clearance in the trees, and there, just over 
the opposite shore, the golden crescent lay in the heavens, the 
purple of which was suffused by the soft glow. It was a wonder- 
ful twilight. The ripples that broke in among the reeds down at 
the shore quivered in lines of gold ; and a little bit farther out a 
small boat lay black as night in the path of the moonlight. The 
shadow cast by the wall grew stronger ; and now the trees, too, 
threw black bars across the yellow road. The two lovers paid no 
heed to these things for a long time — they wandered on, engross- 
ed in talk. But at length we saw them stop and turn towards the 
lake ; while Bell looked back towards us, with her face getting a 
faint touch of the glory coming over from the south. 

All the jesting had gone out of Bell’s face. She was as grave, 
and gentle, and thoughtful — when we reached the two of them — 
as Undine was on the day after her marriage ; and insensibly she 
drew near to Tita, and took her away from us, and left the lieu- 
tenant and myself to follow. That young gentleman was as sol- 
emn as though he had swallowed the Longer Catechism and the 
Westminster Confession of Faith. He admitted that it was a 
beautiful evening. He made a remark about the scenery of the 
district which would have served admirably as a motto for one of 
those views that stationers put at the head of their note-paper. 
And then, with some abruptness, he asked what we should do if 
Arthur did not arrive in Kendal that night or next day. 

If Arthur does not come to-night, we shall probably have 
some dinner at The King’s Arms. If he does not come in the 
morning, we may be permitted to take some breakfast. And 
then, if his staying away does not alter the position of Winder- 
mere, we shall most likely drive along this very road to-morrow 
forenoon. But why this solemn importance conferred on Arthur 
all of a sudden ?” 

“ Oh, I cannot tell you.” 

“ Nobody asked you.” 

“ But I will give you a very good cigar, my dear friend.” 

“ That is a great deal better ; but let it be old and dry.” 

And so we got back to Windermere station and took train to 


ALL ABOUT WINDERMERE. 


267 


Kendal. By the time we were walking up through the streets of 
the old town the moon had swum farther up into the heavenSj 
and its light, now a pale silver, was shining along the fronts of 
the houses. 

We went into the inn. No message from Arthur. A little 
flutter of dismay disturbs the women, until the folly of imagining 
all manner of accidents — merely because an erratic young man 
takes a day longer to drive to Kendal than they anticipated — is 
pointed out to them. Then dinner, and Bell appears in her pret- 
tiest dress, so that even Tita, when she comes into the room, kiss- 
es her, as if the girl had performed a specially virtuous action in 
merely choosing out of a milliner’s shop a suitable color. 

[Note by Queen Titania. — “ I hope I am revealing no secrets ; but it would 
be a great pity if' any one thought that Bell was heartless, or indifferent — a 
mistake that might occur when she is written about by one who makes a jest 
about the most serious moments in one’s life. Now it was quite pitiable to see 
how the poor girl was troubled as we walked home that night by the side of 
W indermere. She as good as confessed to me — not in words, you know, for 
between women the least hint is quite stfficient, and saves a great deal of em- 
barrassment — that she very much liked the lieutenant, and admired his char- 
acter, and that she was extremely vexed and sorry that she had been com- 
pelled to refuse him when he made her an offer. She told me, too, that he 
had pressed her not to make that decision final ; and that she had admitted 
to him that it was really against her own wish that she had done so. But 
then she put it to me, as she had put it to him, what she would think of her- 
self if she went and betrayed Arthur in this way. Really, I could not see any 
betrayal in the matter ; and I asked her whether it would be fair to Arthur to 
marry him while she secretly would have preferred to marry another. She 
said she would try all in her power not to marry Arthur, if only he would be 
reconciled to her breaking with him ; but then she immediately added, with 
an earnestness that I thought very pathetic, that if she treated Arthur badly, 
any other man might fairly expect her to treat him badly too ; and if she 
could not satisfy herself that she had acted rightly throughout, she would 
not marry at all. It is a great pity I cannot show the readers of these few 
lines our pretty Bell’s photograph, or they would see the downright absurdity 
of such a resolve as that. To think of a girl like her not marrying is simply 
out of the question ; but the danger at this moment was that, in one of these 
foolish fits of determination, she would send the lieutenant away altogether. 
Them I think there might be a chance of her not marrying at all ; for I am 
greatly mistaken if she does not care a good deal more for him than she will 
acknowledge. I advised her to tell Arthur frankly how matters stand ; but 
she seems afraid. Under any circumstances, he will be sure to discover the 
truth ; and then it will be far worse for him than if she made a full confes- 
sion just now, and got rid of all these perplexities and entanglements, which 
ought not to be throwing a cloud over a young face.”] 


268 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS. 

“At the inn where we stopped he was exceedingly dissatisfied with some 
roast mutton which he had for dinner. The ladies, I saw, wondered to see 
the great philosopher, whose wisdom and wit they had been admiring all the 
way, get into ill-humor from such a cause.” 

“There is no Paradise without its Serpent,” said my lady, 
with a sigh, as we were about to leave the white streets of Ken- 
dal for the green heart of the Lake district. 

A more cruel speech was never made. Arthur, for aught we 
knew, might be lying smashed up in a Yorkshire ditch. He had 
not overtaken us even on the morning after our arrival in Kendal. 
No message had come from him. Was this a time to liken him 
to the Father of Lies, when perhaps the major’s cob had taken 
him down a railway-cutting or thrown him into a disused coal- 
pit ? What, for example, if his corpse had been brought into The 
King’s Arms in which the above words were uttered? Would 
the lieutenant have spoken of him contemptuously as “ a pitiful 
fellow — oh, a very pitiful fellow?” Would Bell have borne his 
presence with a meek and embarrassed resignation; or would 
Queen Tita have regarded the young man — who used to be a 
great friend of hers — as one intending to do her a deadly im 
jury? 

“Poor Arthur!” I say. “Whither have all thy friends de- 
parted ?” 

“ At least, he does not want for an apologist,” says Tita, with 
a little unnecessary fierceness. 

“ Perhaps thou art lying under two wheels in a peaceful glade. 
Perhaps thou art floating out to the ocean on the bosom of a 
friendly stream — with all the companions of thy youth unheed- 
ing—” 

“ Stuff !” says Queen Titania ; and when I observe that I will 
address no further appeal to her — for that a lady who lends her- 
self to match-making abandons all natural instincts, and is insen- 
sible to a cry for pity — she turns impatiently, and asks what I 


ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS. 


269 


have done with her eau-de-cologne, as if the fate of Arthur were 
of less importance to her than that trumpery flask. 

Wherever the young man was, we could gain no tidings of 
him ; and so we went forth once more on our journey. But as 
the certainty was that he had not passed us, how was it that 
Queen Tita feared the presence of this evil thing in the beautiful 
land before us ? 

“ For,” said the lieutenant, pretending he was quite anxious 
about the safety of the young man, and, on the whole, desirous 
of seeing him, “he may have gone to Carlisle, as he at first pro- 
posed, to meet us there.” 

“ Oh, do you think so ?” said Bell, eagerly. Was she glad, 
then, to think that during our wanderings in her native county 
we should not be accompanied by that unhappy youth ? 

But the emotions which perplexed my lady’s heart at this time 
were of the most curious sort. It was only by bits and snatches 
that the odd contradictions and intricacies of them were revealed. 
To begin with, she had a sneaking fondness for Arthur, begot- 
ten of old associations. She was vexed with him because he was 
likely to ruin her plan for the marriage of Bell and the lieuten- 
ant; and when Tita thought of this delightful prospect being 
destroyed by the interference of Arthur, she grew angry, and re- 
garded him as an unreasonable and ofiicious young man, who 
ought to be sent about his business. Then again, when she re- 
called our old evenings in Surrey, and the pleasant time the boy 
had in sweethearting with our bonny Bell during the long and 
lazy afternoon walks, she was visited with remorse, and wished 
she could do something for him. But a claimant of this sort 
who represents an injury is certain, sooner or later, to be regarded 
with dislike. He is continually reminding us that we have in- 
jured him, and disturbing our peace of mind. Sometimes Tita 
resented this claim (which was entirely of her own imagining) so 
strongly as to look upon Arthur as a perverse and wicked inter- 
meddler with the happiness of two young lovers. So the world 
wags. The person who is inconvenient to us does us a wrong. 
At the very basis of our theatrical drama lies the principle that 
non-success in a love affair is criminal. Two young men shall 
woo a young woman ; the one shall be taken, and the other made 
a villain because he paid the girl the compliment of wanting to 
marry her, and justice shall not be satisfied until everybody has 


270 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


hounded and hunted the poor villain through all the phases of 
the play, until all the good people meet to witness his discomfit- 
ure, and he is bidden to go away and be a rejected suitor no more. 

It was only in one of these varying moods that Tita had shown 
a partial indifference to Arthur’s fate. She was really concerned 
about his absence. When she took her seat in the phaeton, she 
looked back and down the main thoroughfare of Kendal, half ex- 
pecting to see the major’s cob and a small dog-cart come driving 
along. The suggestion that he might have gone on to Penrith 
or Carlisle comforted her greatly. The only inexplicable circum- 
stance was that Arthur had not written or telegraphed to Kendal, 
at which town he knew we were to stop. 

About five minutes after our leaving Kendal, Arthur was as 
completely forgotten as though no such hapless creature was in 
existence. We were all on foot except Tita, who remained in the 
phaeton to hold the reins in a formal fashion. For about a mile 
and a half the road gradually rises, giving a long spell of col- 
lar-work to horses with weight to drag behind them. Tita, who 
weighs about a feather and a half, was commissioned to the 
charge of the phaeton while the rest of us dawdled along the 
road, giving Castor and Pollux plenty of time. It was a pleasant 
walk. The lieutenant, with an amount of hypocrisy of which I 
had not suspected him guilty, seemed to prefer to go by the side 
of the phaeton, and talk to the small lady sitting enthroned 
there ; but Bell, once on foot and in her native air, could not so 
moderate her pace. We set off up the hill. There was a scent 
of peat-reek in the air. A cool west wind was blowing through 
the tall hedges and the trees ; and sudden shafts and gleams of 
sunlight fell from the uncertain sky and lighted up the wild 
masses of weeds and fiowers by the road-side. Bell pulled a white 
dog-rose, and kissed it as though a Westmoreland rose was an 
old friend she had come to see. She saw good jests in the idlest 
talk, and laughed ; and all her face was aglow with delight as she 
looked at the beautiful country, and the breezy sky, and the blue 
peaks of the mountains that seemed to grow higher and higher 
the farther we ascended the hill. 

“You silly girl,” I say to her, when she is eager to point out 
cottages built of stone, and stone walls separating small orchards 
from the undulating meadows, “ do you think there are no stone 
cottages anywhere but in Westmoreland ?” 


ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS. 


271 


“ I didn’t say there wasn’t,” she answers, regardless of gram- 
mar. 

Yes, we were certainly in Westmoreland. She had scarcely 
uttered the words when a rapid pattering was heard among the 
trees, and presently a brisk shower was raining down upon us. 
Would she return to the phaeton for a shawl? No. She knew 
the ways of Westmoreland showers on such a day as this ; in- 
deed, she had predicted that some of the heavy clouds being 
blown over from the other side of Windermere would visit us in 
passing. In a few minutes the shower lightened, the wind that 
shook the heavy drops from the trees seemed to bring dryness 
with it, and presently a warm glow of sunshine sprung down 
upon the road, and the air grew sweet with resinous and fragrant 
smells. 

“ It was merely to lay the dust,” said Bell, as though she had 
ordered the shower. 

After you pass Rather Heath, you go down into the valley of 
the Gowan. The road is more of a lane than a highway ; and 
the bright and showery day added to the picturesqueness of the 
tall hedges and the wooded country on both sides by sending 
across alternate splatches of gloom and bursts of sunlight. More 
than once, too, the tail-end of a shower caught us ; but we cared 
little for rain that had wind and sunlight on the other side of it ; 
and Bell, indeed, rather rejoiced in the pictorial effects produced 
by changing clouds, when the sunshine caused the heavier masses 
to grow black and ominous, or shone mistily through the frail 
sheet produced by the thinner masses melting into rain. 

Tita is a pretty safe driver in Surrey, where she knows every 
inch of the roads and lanes, and has nothing to distract her at- 
tention ; but now, among these hilly and stony Westmoreland 
roads, her enjoyment of the bright panorama around her consid- 
erably drew her attention away from the horses’ feet. Then she 
was sorely troubled by news that had reached us that morning 
from home. An evil-doer, whom she had hitherto kept in order 
by alternate bribes and threats, had broken out again, and given 
his wife -a desperate thrashing. Now this occurrence seldom hap- 
pened except when both husband and wife were intoxicated ; and 
for some time back my lady had succeeded in stopping their pe- 
riodical bouts. With these evil tidings came the report that a 
horrible old creature of sixty — as arrant a rogue as ever went on 


272 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. , 

; 

crutches, although my lady would have taken the life of any one ; 
who dared to say so of one of her pets — had deliberately gone to 
Guildford, and pawned certain pieces of flannel which had been • 
given her to sew. In short, as Bell proceeded to point out, the 1 
whole neighborhood was in revolt. The chief administrator of <: 
justice and queen’s almoner of the district was up here skylarking ^ 
in a phaeton, while her subjects down in the South had broken v 
out into flagrant rebellion. History tells of a Scotch parish that 
suddenly rose and hanged the minister, drowned the precentor, 
and raffled the church bell. Who was now to answer for the 
safety of our most cherished parochial institutions when the guar- ^ 
dian of law and order had withdrawn herself into the regions of 
the mountains ? 

“That revolt,” it is observed, “is the natural consequence of 
tyranny. For years you have crushed down and domineered over 
that unhappy parish ; and the unenfranchised millions, who had 
no more liberty than is vouchsafed to a stabled horse or a chained 
dog, have risen at last. Mort aux tyrans! Will they chase us, 
do you think. Bell ?” 

“I am quite convinced,” remarked my lady, deliberately and 
calmly, “ that the poor old woman has done nothing of the kind. 
She could not do it. Why should she seek to gain a few shil- • 
lings at the expense of forfeiting all the assistance she had to ex- ; 
pect from me ?” 

“An independent peasantry is not to be bought over by piti- ^ 
ful bribes. ’Tis a free country ; and the three balls ought to be ! 
placed among the insignia of royalty, instead of that meaningless 
sphere. Can any student of history now present explain the orig- 
inal purpose of that instrument ?” i 

“ I suppose,” says Bell, “ that Queen Elizabeth, who always has 
it in her hand, used to chastise her maid-servants with it.” 

“ Wrong. With that weapon Henry the Eighth was wont to 
strike down and murder the good priests that interfered with his 
unholy wishes.” 

“Henry the Eighth — ” says my lady; but just at this mo- 
ment Castor caught a stone slightly with his foot, and the brief 
stumble caused my lady to mind her driving; so that Henry 
VHI., wherever he is, may be congratulated on the fact that she 
did not finish her sentence. 

Then we ran pleasantly along the valley until we came in sight, 


ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS. 


273 


once more, of Windermere. We drove round the foot of the 
green slopes of Elleray. We plunged into the wood, and there 
was all around us a moist odor of toadstools and fern. We went 
by St. Catherine’s and over Troutbeck Bridge, and so down to 
the lake-side by Ecclerigg House and Lowood. It was along this 
road that Bell and her companion had walked the night before, 
when the yellow moon rose up in the south and threw a strange 
light over Windermere. The lieutenant had said not a word 
about the results of that long interview ; but they had clearly not 
been unfavorable to him, for he had been in excellent good spir- 
its during the rest of the evening, and now he was chatting to 
Bell as if nothing had occurred to break the even tenor of their 
acquaintanceship. They had quite resumed their old relations, 
which was a blessing to the two remaining members of the party. 
Indeed, there was no bar now placed upon Bell’s singing except 
her own talking ; and when a young lady undertakes to instruct 
her elders in the history, traditions, manners, customs, and pecul- 
iarities of Westmoreland she has not much time for strumming 
on the guitar. Bell acted the part of valet de place to perfection, 
and preached at us just as if we were all as great strangers as the 
lieutenant was. It is true our guide was not infallible. Some- 
times we could see that she was in deep distress over the names 
of the peaks up in the neighborhood of the Langdale Pikes ; but 
what did it matter to us which was Scawfell and which was Bow- 
fell, or which was Great Gable and which Great End ? We had 
come to enjoy ourselves, not to correct the Ordnance Survey 
Maps. 

“ I am afraid,” said my lady, when some proposal to stop at 
Ambleside and climb Wansfell Pike had been unanimously re- 
jected, “ that we have been throughout this journey disgracefully 
remiss. We have gone to see nothing that we ought to have 
seen. We have never paid any attention to ancient ruins, or gal- 
leries of pictures, or celebrated monuments. We have not climbed 
a single mountain. We went past Woodstock without look- 
ing in at the gates — we did not even go to see the obelisk on 
Evesham Plain — ” 

“That was because some of you drove the horses the wrong 
way,” it is remarked. 

“ Indeed, we have done nothing that we ought to have done.” 

“ Perhaps, madame,” said the lieutenant, “ that is why the voy- 

18 


274 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


age has been so pleasant to us. One cannot always be instruct- 
ing one’s self, like a tourist.” 

If you wish to vex my lady, call her a tourist. This subtle 
compliment of the lieutenant pleased her immensely ; but I con- 
fess myself unable to see in what respects we were not tourists, 
except that we were a little more ignorant, and indifferent to our 
ignorance, than holiday travellers generally are. What tourist, 
for example, would have done such a barbaric thing as go through 
Ambleside without stopping a day there ? 

That was all along of Bell, however, who insisted on our spend- 
ing the treasure of our leisure time upon Grasmere ; and who was 
strengthened in her demands by my lady, when she came in view 
of a considerable number of tourists lounging about the former 
town. The poor men were for the most part dressed as moun- 
taineers ; otherwise they were quite harmless. They were loiter- 
ing about the main thoroughfare of Ambleside, with their hands 
in the pockets of their knickerbockers, gazing in at the stationer’s 
window, or regarding a brace of setters that a keeper standing in 
front of a hotel had in leash. They did not even look narrowly 
at the knees of our horses — an ordinary piece of polite imperti- 
nence. They were well-meaning and well-conducted persons; 
and the worst that could be said of them, that they were tourists, 
has been said about many good and respectable people. A man 
may have climbed Loughrigg Fell, and yet be an attentive hus- 
band and an affectionate father; while knickerbockers in them- 
selves are not an indictable offense. My lady made no answer to 
these humble representations, but asked for how long the horses 
would have to be put up before we started again. 

Bell’s enthusiasm of the morning had given way to something 
of disappointment, which she tried hard to conceal. Ambleside, 
one of the places she had been dreaming about for years, looked 
painfully modern now. In thinking about it, down in our South- 
ern home, she had shut out of the picture hotels, shops, and fash- 
ionably dressed people, and had dwelt only on the wild and pict- 
uresque features of a neighborhood that had at one time been as 
familiar to her as her mother’s face. But now, Ambleside seemed 
to have grown big, and new, and strange ; and she lost the sense 
of proprietorship which she had been exhibiting in our drive 
through the scenery of the morning. Then Loughrigg Fell did 
us an evil turn, gathering up all the clouds that the wind had 


ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS. 


275 


driven over, and sending them gently and persistently down into 
the valley of the Rothay, so that a steady rain had set in. The 
lieutenant did not care much how the sky might be clouded over, 
so long as Bell’s face remained bright and happy ; but it was 
quite evident she was disappointed, and he in vain attempted to 
reassure her by declaring that these two days had convinced him 
that the Lake country was the most beautiful in the world. She 
could not foresee then that this very gloom, that seemed to mean 
nothing but constant rain, would procure for us that evening by 
far the most impressive sight that we encountered during the 
whole of our long summer ramble. 

Our discontent with Loughrigg Fell took an odd turn when it 
discharged itself upon the Duke of Wellington. We had grown 
accustomed to that foolish picture of the Waterloo Heroes, in 
which the Duke, in a pair of white pantaloons, stands in the atti- 
tude of a dancing-master, with an idiotic simper on his face. All 
along the road, in public-houses, inns, and hotels, we had met this 
desperate piece of decoration on the walls, and had only smiled a 
melancholy smile when we came upon another copy. But this 
particular print seemed to be quite offensively ridiculous. If 
Henry VIH. had been inside these long white pantaloons and 
that tight coat, my lady could not have regarded the figure with 
a severer contempt. We picked out enemies among the attend- 
ant generals, just as one goes over an album of photographs, and 
has a curious pleasure in recording mental likes and dislikes pro- 
duced by unknown faces. Somehow, all the Waterloo Heroes 
on this evening looked stupid and commonplace. It seemed a 
mercy that Napoleon was beaten; but how he had been beaten 
by such a series of gabies and nincompoops none of us could 
make out. 

Then the lieutenant must needs grumble at the luncheon 
served up to us. It was a good enough luncheon, as hotels go ; 
and even my lady was moved to express her surprise that a young 
man who professed himself able to enjoy any thing in the way 
of food, and who had told us amusing stories of his foraging ad- 
ventures in campaigning time, should care whether there were or 
were not lemon and bread-crumbs with a mutton-cutlet. 

“ Madame,” said the lieutenant, “ that is very well in a cam- 
paign, and you are glad of anything; but there is no merit in 
eating badly cooked food — none at all.” 


276 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“A soldier should not mind such trifles,” she said; but she 
smiled as though to say that she agreed with him all the same. 

“ Well, I think,” said the young man, doggedly, “ that is no 
shame that any one should know what is good to eat, and that 
it is properly prepared. It is not any more contemptible than 
dressing yourself in good taste, which is a duty you owe to other 
people. You should see our old generals — who are very glad of 
some coarse bread, and a piece of sausage, and a tumbler of sour 
wine, when they are riding across a country in the war — how they 
study delicate things, and scientiflc cookery, and all that, in Berlin.” 

“ And do you follow their example when you are at home ?” 

“Not always; I have not enough time. But when you come 
to my house in Berlin, madame, you will see what luncheon you 
shall have.” 

“ Can’t you tell us about it now ?” says Tita. 

“Pray do,” echoes Bell, after casting another reproachful 
glance at the rain out-of-doors. 

The lieutenant laughed ; but seeing that the women were quite 
serious, he proceeded in a grave and solemn manner to instruct 
them in the art of preparing luncheon. 

“ First,” said he, “ you must have Russian black bread and 
French white bread cut into thin slices — but you do not use the 
black bread yet awhile ; and you must have some good Rhine 
wine, a little warmed if it is in the winter; some Bordeaux, a 
bottle of green Chartreuse, and some Champagne, if there are la- 
dies. Now, for the first, you take a slice of white bread, you put 
a little butter on it, very thin, and then you open a pot of Rus- 
sian caviare, and you put that on the slice of bread three-quarters 
of an inch thick — not less than that. You must not taste it by 
little and little, as all English ladies do, but eat it boldly, and you 
will be grateful. Then half a glass of soft Rhine wine ; if it is a 
good Marcobrunner, that is excellent. Then you eat one slice of 
the black bread, with butter on it, more thick than on the white 
bread. Then you have two, perhaps three, Norwegian ancho- 
vies — ” 

“Would you mind my writing these things down?” says my 
lady. 

The lieutenant of course assents ; she produces a small bunch 
of ivory tablets, and I know the horrible purpose that fills her 
mind as she proceeds to jot down this programme. 


ON CAVIARE AND OTHER MATTERS. 


277 


“ You must have the caviare and the anchovies of real quality, 
or everything is spoiled. With the anchovies you may eat the 
black bread, or the white, but I think without butter. Then half 
a glass of Rhine wine — ” 

“ Those half-glasses of Rhine wine are coming in rather often,” 
remarks Bell. 

“ No, mademoiselle, that is the last of the Rhine wine. Next 
is a thin slice of white bread, very thin butter, and a very thin 
slice of Bologna-sausage. This is optional — ” 

“My dear,” I say to Tita, “be sure you put down ^This is op- 
tional r ” 

“With it you have a glass of good and soft Bordeaux wine. 
Then, madame, we come to the reindeer’s tongue. This is the 
piece de rhistance^ and your guests must eat of it just as they 
have their hour for dinner in the evening. Also, if they are la- 
dies, they may prefer a sparkling wine to the Bordeaux, though 
the Bordeaux is much better. And this is the reason : after the 
reindeer’s tongue is taken away, and you may eat an olive or two, 
then a pate de foie gras — real, from Strasburg — ” 

“ Stop !” cries one of the party. “ If I have any authority left, 
I forbid the addition to that disastrous catalogue of another sin- 
gle item! I will not suffer their introduction into the house! 
Away with them !” 

“ But, my dear friend,” says the lieutenant, “ it is a good thing 
to accustom yourself to eat the meats of all countries ; you know 
not where you may find yourself.” 

“ Yes,” says Bell, gently, “ one ought to learn to like caviare, 
lest one should be thrown on a desert island.” 

“And why not?” says the persistent young man. “You are 
thrown on a desert island — you catch a sturgeon, you take the 
roe, and you know how to make very good caviare — ” 

“ But how about the half-glass of Rhine wine ?” says my lady. 

“Y»u can not have everything in a desert island; but in a 
town, whRre you have time to study such things — ” 

“ And where you can order coffins for half-past ten,” it is sug- 
gested. 

“ — A good luncheon is a good thing.” 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” said Bell, “ the rain has ceased.” 

And so it had. While we had been contemplating that imag- 
inary feast, and paying no attention to the changes out-of-doors, 


278 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON, 


the clouds had gradually withdrawn themselves up the mountains, 
and the humid air showed no more slanting lines of rain. But 
still overhead there hung a heavy gloom ; and along the wet 
woods, and on the troubled bosom of the lake, and up the slopes 
of the hills, there seemed to lie an ominous darkness. Should we 
reach Grasmere in safety? The lieutenant had the horses put 
to with all speed; and presently Bell was taking us at a rapid 
pace into the wooded gorge that lies between Nab Scar and 
Loughrigg Fell, where the gathering twilight seemed to deepen 
with premonitions of a storm. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

AT NIGHT ON GRASMERE. 

“Ye who have yearned 

With too much passion, will here stay and pity, 

For the mere sake of truth ; as ’tis a ditty 
Not of these days, but long ago ’twas told 
By a cavern wind unto a forest old ; 

And then the forest told it in a dream 
To a sleeping lake.” 

We drove into the solitude of this deep valley without uttering 
a word. How could we tell what the strange gloom and silence 
might portend? Far away up the misty and rounded slopes of 
Loughrigg the clouds lay heavy and thick, and over the masses 
of Rydal Fell, on the other side of the gorge, an ominous dark- 
ness brooded. Down here in the chasm the trees hung cold and 
limp in the humid air, crushed by the long rain. There was no 
sign of life abroad, only that we heard the rushing of the rivei 
Rothay in among the underwood in the channel of the stream. 
There was not even any motion in that wild and gloomy sky, 
that looked all the stranger that the storm-clouds did not move. 

But as we drove on, it seemed to become less likely that the 
rain would set in again. The clouds had got banked up in great 
billows of vapor ; and underneath them we could see, even in the 
twilight, the forms of the mountains with a strange distinctness. 
The green of the distant slopes up there grew more and more in- 
tense, strengthened as it was by long splashes of a deep purple 


AT NIGHT ON GRASMERE. 279 

where the slate was visible; then the heavy gray of the sky, 
weighing upon the summits of the hills. 

But all this was as nothing to the wild and gloomy scene that 
met our view when we came in sight of Rydal Water. We 
scarcely knew the lake we had loved of old, in bright days, and 
in sunshine, and blowing rain. Here, hidden away among reeds, 
lay a long stretch of dark slate -blue, with no streak of white 
along the shores, no ripple off the crags, to show that it was wa- 
ter. So perfect was the mirror-like surface, that it was impossi- 
ble to say in the gathering gloom where the lake ended and the 
land began. The islands, the trees, the fields, and the green 
spaces of the hills, were as distinct below as above ; and where 
the dark -blue of the lake ran in among the reeds, no one could 
make out the line of the shore. It was a strange and impressive 
scene, this silent lake lying at the foot of the hills, and so calm 
and death-like that the motionless clouds of the sky lay without 
a tremor on the sheet of glass. This was not the Rydal Water 
we had been hoping to see, but a solitary and enchanted lake, 
struck silent and still by the awful calmness of the twilight and 
the presence of the lowering clouds. 

We got down from the phaeton. The horses were allowed to 
walk quietly on, with Tita in charge, while we sauntered along 
the winding road, by the side of this sombre sheet of water. 
There was no more fear of rain. There was a firmness about the 
outlines of the clouds that became more marked as the dusk fell. 
But although the darkness was coming on apace, we did not 
hasten our steps much. When should we ever again see such a 
picture as this, the like of which Bell, familiar with the sights and 
sounds of the district from her childhood, had never seen before ? 

What I have written above conveys nothing of the impressive 
solemnity and majesty of this strange sight as we saw it ; and, in- 
deed, I had resolved, before entering the Lake district, to leave 
out of the jottings of a mere holiday traveller any mention of 
scenes which have become familiar to the world through the im- 
perishable and unapproachable descriptions of the great masters 
who lived and wrote in these regions. But such jottings must 
be taken for what they are worth — the hasty record of hasty 
impressions ; and how could our little party have such a vision 
vouchsafed to them without at least noting it down as an incident 
of their journey ? 


280 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


We walked on in the darkness. The slopes of Nab Scar had 
become invisible. Here and there a white cottage glimmered 
out from the road-side; and Bell knew the name of every one 
of them, and of the people who used to occupy them. 

“How surprised some of our friends would be,” she said to 
Tita, “ if we were to call on them to-night, and walk in without 
saying a word !” 

“ They would take you for a banshee,” said my lady, “ on such 
an evening as this. Get up. Bell, and let us drive on. I am be- 
ginning to shiver — whether with fright or with cold, I don’t 
know.” 

So we got into the phaeton again, and sent the horses forward. 
We drove along the broad road which skirts the reedy and shal- 
low end of Rydal Water, and entered the valley of the stream 
which comes flowing through the trees from Grasmere. It was 
now almost dark ; and the only sound we could hear was that of 
the stream plashing along its rocky bed. By-and-by a glimmer 
of yellow light was observed in front ; and Bell having announced 
that this was The Prince of Wales hotel, we were soon within its 
comfortable precincts. In passing, we had got a glimpse of a 
dark steel-gray lake lying amidst gray mists and under sombre 
hills — that was all we knew as yet of Grasmere. 

But about an hour afterward, when we had dined, the lieuten- 
ant came back from the window at which we had been standing 
for a minute or two, and said, 

“ Mademoiselle, I have a communication for you.” 

Mademoiselle looked up. 

“ If you will go to the window — ” 

Bell rose and went directly. 

“ I know,” said my lady, with a well-affected sigh. “ The night 
has cleared up — there is starlight or moonlight, or something, 
and I suppose we shall have to go out in a boat to please these 
foolish young people. But I think you will be disappointed this 
time. Count Von Rosen.” 

“ Why, madame ?” 

“ This is a respectable hotel. Do you think they would give 
you a boat ? Now, if there was some old lady to be cajoled, I 
dare say you would succeed — ” 

“ Oh, you do think we cannot get a boat, yes ? I do not sup- 
pose there is any trouble about that, if only mademoiselle cares 


A NIGHT ON GRASMERE. 


281 


about going on the lake. Perhaps she does not ; but you must 
see how beautiful this lake is at present.” 

The idea of Bell not wishing to go out on Grasmere — at any 
hour of the night — so long as there was a yellow moon rising 
over the dusky heights of Silver Home ! The girl was all in a 
flutter of delight when she returned from the window, anxious 
that we should all see Grasmere under these flne conditions, just 
as if Grasmere belonged to her. And the lieutenant, having gone 
outside for a few minutes, returned with the information that 
a boat was waiting for us. There was no triumph in his face — 
no exultation; and it never occurred to any one to ask whether 
this young Uhlan had secured the boat by throwing the owner of 
it into the lake. The women were quite satisfied to accept all the 
pleasant things he brought them, and never stopped to inquire 
by what tyrannical or disgraceful means the young Prussian had 
succeeded in his fell endeavors. But at all events, he managed 
to keep out of the police-oflSce. 

As a matter of fact, the boat was not only waiting when Tita 
and Bell, having dressed for the purpose, came down-stairs, but 
was supplied with all manner of nice cushions, plaids, rugs, and 
a guitar-case. The women showed a good deal of trepidation in 
stepping into the frail craft, which lay under the shadow of a 
small jetty ; but once out in the open lake, we found sufiicient 
light around us, and Bell, pulling her gray and woollen shawl more 
tightly around her, turned to look at the wonders of Grasmere, 
which she had not seen for many years. 

It was a pleasant night. All the hills and woods on the other 
side of the lake seemed for the most part in a black shadow ; but 
out here the moonlight dwelt calmly on the water, and lighted up 
the wooded island farther down, and shone along the level shores. 
As we went out into the silent plain, the windows of the hotel 
grew smaller and smaller, until in the distance we could see them 
but as minute points of orange fire that glittered down on the 
black surface below. Then, in the perfect stillness of the night 
— as the measured sound of the rowlocks told of our progress, 
and the moonlight shone on the gleaming blades of the oars — we 
were all at once startled by a loud and hissing noise, that caused 
Tita to utter a slight cry of alarm. 

We had run into a great bed of water-weeds, that was all — a 
tangled mass of water-lily leaves, with millions of straight horse* 


282 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


tails rising from the shallow lake. We pushed on. The horse- 
tails went down before the prow of the boat; but all around us 
the miniature forest remained erect. The moonlight sparkled on 
the ripples that we sent circling out through those perpendicular 
lines. And then the lieutenant called out a note of warning, and 
Bell plunged her oars in the water just in time, for we had nearly 
run down two swans that were fast asleep in among the tall weeds. 

We forsook this shallower end of the lake, and, with some more 
hissing of horse-tails, pushed out and into the world of moonlight 
and still water ; and then, as Tita took the oars, and just dipped 
them now and again to give us a sense of motion. Bell rested her 
guitar on her knee, and began to sing to us. What should she 
sing under the solitude of the hills, when all our laughter of din- 
ner-time was over, and we were as silent as the lake itself ? There 
was not even a breath of wind stirring ; and it was in a very low 
voice, with something of a tremor in it, that Bell began to accom- 
pany the faint touching of the guitar. 

“ I’ve heard the lilting at our ewe-milking ” 

— she sung, and her voice was so low and tremulous that Tita for- 
got to dip the oars into the water that she might listen to the 
girl— 

“ Lasses a lilting before the break o’ day, 

But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning — 

The Flowers o’ the Forest are a’ wede away.” 

Had Grasmere ever listened to a more pathetic ballad, or to a ten- 
derer voice? It was as well, perhaps, that the lieutenant could 
not see Bell’s face ; for as she sung the last verse — 

“ We hear nae mair lilting at our ewe-milking; 

Women and bairns are heartless and wae; 

Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning — 

The Flowers o’ the Forest are a’ wede away ” 

— there was a sort of indistinctness in her voice; and when the 
lieutenant said that it was the finest English song that he had yet 
heard, and that the air was so very different from most of the old 
English tunes, she could not answer him for a minute or two. 

But when she did answer him, fancy our astonishment ! 

“ It isn’t English,” she said, with just a trace of contempt in 
her tone. “ When did you find the English able to write a song 
or an air like that ?” 


AT NIGHT ON GRASMERE. 


283 


“ Grant me patience ! ’ cries my lady, with a fine theatrical ap- 
peal to the moonlight overhead. “ This girl, because she was 
born in Westmoreland, claims the possession of everything north 
of the Trent.” 

“ Are not you also English, mademoiselle ?” says the lieutenant. 

“ I belong to the North Country,” says Bell, proudly ; “ and 
we are all the same race up here.” 

Now you should have seen how this cue was seized by the lieu- 
tenant. The boy had about as much knowledge of the coloniza- 
tion of this country as most youths pick up at schools ; but the 
manner in which he twisted it about to suit the wild and auda- 
cious statement that Bell had uttered was truly alarming. Be- 
fore we knew where we were, we were plunged into the history 
of Strathclyde, and invited to consider the consistency of char- 
acter that must have prevailed in the great Welsh kingdom that 
stretched from Dumbarton to Chester. We had also some pleas- 
ant little excursions into Bernicia and Deira, with abundance of 
proof that the Lowland Scotch speak the best English now going 
— apiece of information which we accepted with meekness. We 
were treated to a recapitulation of the settlements of the Angles, 
together with a learned disquisition on the aims of Ida. This 
was all very well. It passed the time. Bell thought she was 
firmly established in her position. Her traditional reverence for 
the “ North Country ” and all its belongings had, it turned out, 
some definite historical justification. She had a right to claim 
the songs of the Lowland Scotch; was she not herself of that 
favored race? At length Queen Tita burst into a merry fit of 
laughter ! 

“I don’t know what you mean to prove. Count Von Rosen,” 
she said ; “ you prove so much. At one time you insist that Bell 
is Scotch ; at another time you show us that she must be Welsh, 
if all the people in Strathclyde were Welsh. But look at her, and 
what becomes of all the theories ? There is no more English girl 
in all England than our Bell.” 

“ That is no harm said of her,” replied the lieutenant, abandon- 
ing all his arguments at once. 

“ I suppose I am English,” said Bell, obstinately, “ but I am 
North-country English.” 

Nobody could dispute that ; and doubtless the lieutenant con- 
sidered that Bell’s division of this realm into districts mapped 


284 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


out in her imagination was of much more importance than the 
idle inquiries of historians into the German occupation of Eng- 
land. Then we pulled away over to the island, and round under- 
neath the shadows of its firs, and back through the clear moon- 
light to the small jetty of the hotel. We entered the warm and 
comfortable building. The folks who had been dining had all 
gone into the drawing-room ; but neither my lady nor Bell seemed 
inclined to venture in among the strangers ; and so we procured 
a private sitting-room, in which, by good luck, there was a piano. 

The lieutenant sat down. 

“ Madame,” he said, “ what shall I play to you ? It is not 
since that I was at Twickenham I have touched a piano — oh, that 
is very bad English, I know, but I cannot help it.” 

“ Sing the Rataplan song that Bell was humming the other 
day,” said Tita. “You two shall sing it; you shall be the old 
Sergeant, and Bell the Daughter of the Regiment.” 

“ Yes, I can sing it,” he said ; “ but to play it — that I cannot 
do. It is too fine for my thick fingers.” 

And so he gave way to Bell, who played the accompaniment 
dexterously enough, and sung with a will. You would have fan- 
cied that the camp was really her birthplace, and that she was 
determined to march with the foremost, as the good song says. 
The lieutenant had not half the martial ardor of this girl, who 
was singing of fire and slaughter, of battle and sudden death, as 
though she had been the eldest daughter of one of the kings of 
her native Strathclyde. And then, when she had finished that 
performance, it needed only the least suggestion of the lieutenant 
to get her to sing Maria’s next song, “ Ciascun lo dice,” so that 
you would have thought she had the spirit of the whole regiment 
within her. It is not a proper song. The brave Eleventh was 
doubtless a very gallant regiment; but why should they have 
taught their daughter to glorify their frightening of landlords, 
their flirtations, their fierce flying hither and thither, like the fa- 
mous Jager that followed Hoik? This is the regiment, Maria 
tells you, that fears nothing, but whom all men fear. This is 
the regiment beloved of women ; for is not each soldier sure to 
become a field-marshal? The lieutenant laughed at the warlike 
glow of her singing, but he was mightily pleased, for all that. 
She was fit to be a soldier’s wife — this girl with the mantling col- 
or in her cheek, and the brave voice and gallant mien. With col- 


AT NIGHT ON GRASMERE. 


285 


ors in lier cap, and a drum slung round her neck, with all the fa- 
thers oi the regiment petting her, and proud of her, and ready to 
drive the soul out of the man who spoke a rude word to her; 
with her arch ways, and her frank bearing, and her loyal and lov- 
ing regard for the brave Eleventh — why. Bell, for the moment, 
was really Maria, and as bright and as fearless as any Maria that 
ever sung “ Rataplan !” Queen Tita was pleased too, but she was 
bound to play the part of the stately Marchioness. With an af- 
fectionate pat on the shoulder, she told Bell she mustn’t sing 
any more of these soldier-songs ; they were not improving songs. 
With which — just as if she had been ordered by the Marchioness 
to leave the brave Eleventh — Bell began to sing the plaintive 
and touching “ Convien partir.” Perhaps we may have heard it 
better sung at Drury Lane. The song is known in Co vent Gar- 
den. But if you had heard Bell sing it this night, with her 
lover sitting quite silent, and embarrassed with a shamefaced 
pleasure, and with a glimmer of moonlight on Grasmere visible 
through the open window, you might have forgiven the girl for 
her mistakes. 

A notion may have crossed my lady’s mind that it was very 
hard on Arthur that Bell should in his absence have been singing 
these soldier-songs with so much obvious enjoyment. Was it fair 
that this young Uhlan should flutter his martial scarlet and blue 
and gold before the girl’s eyes, and dazzle her with romantic pict- 
ures of a soldier’s life ? What chance had the poor law-student, 
coming out from his dingy chambers in the Temple, with bewil- 
dered eyes, and pale face, and the funereal costume of the ordi- 
nary English youth? We know how girls are attracted by show, 
how their hearts are stirred by the passing of a regiment with 
music playing and colors flying. The padded uniform may in- 
close a nutshell sort of heart, and the gleaming helmet or the im- 
posing busby may surmount the feeblest sort of brain that could 
with decency have been put within a human skull ; but what of 
that? Each feather-bed warrior who rides from Knightsbridge 
to Whitehall, and from Whitehall to Knightsbridge, is gifted with 
the glorious traditions of great armies and innumerable cam- 
paigns ; and in a ball-room the ass in scarlet is a far more attrac- 
tive spectacle than the wise man in black. Perhaps Arthur was 
not the most striking example that might have been got to add 
point to the contrast; but if any such thoughts were running 


286 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


through Queen Tita’s mind, you may be sure that her sympathies 
were awakened for a young man whose chances of marrying Bell 
were becoming more and more nebulous. 

And then my lady sat down to the piano, and condescended to 
play for us a few pieces, with a precision and a delicacy of finger- 
ing which were far removed from Bell’s performances in that way. 
I suppose you young fellows who read this would have regarded 
with indifference the dark-eyed little matron who sat there and 
unravelled the intricacies of the most difficult music. You would 
have kept all your attention for the girl who stood beside her; 
and you would have preferred the wilder and less finished play- 
ing of Bell, simply because she had fine eyes, pretty hair, a whole- 
some English pleasantness and frankness, and a proud and gra- 
cious demeanor. But a few years hence you may come to know 
better. You may get to understand the value of the quiet and 
unobtrusive ways of a woman who can look after a household, 
and busy herself with manifold charities, and bring up her chil- 
dren well and scrupulously, and yet have a tender smile for the 
vagaries of young folks like yourselves. And then, if it is your 
excellent fortune to have with you so gentle and fearless and hon- 
est a companion — if your own life seems to be but the half of 
the broader and fuller existence that abides beneath your roof — 
you may do worse than go down on your knees and thank God 
who has blessed your house with the presence of a good wife and 
a good mother. 

Tales shall not be told out of school. We may have sat a lit- 
tle late that night. We were harming no one by so doing, ex- 
cept ourselves ; and if our health suffered by such late hours, we 
were prepared to let it suffer. For the fact was, we drifted into 
talk about our Surrey home; and now that seemed so far away, 
and it seemed so long since we had been there, that the most or- 
dinary details of our by-gone life in the South had grown pict- 
uresque. And from that Tita began to recall the names of the 
people she had known in the Lake district, in the old time, when 
Bell was but a girl, running about the valleys and hill-sides like 
a young goat. That, too, carried us back a long way, until it 
seemed as if we had drifted into a new generation of things that 
knew nothing of the good old times that were. There was a 
trifle of regret imported into this conversation — why, no one 
could tell ; but when we broke up for the night, Tita’s face was 


ARTHUR S SONG. 


287 


rather saddened, and she did not follow Bell when the girl called 
to her to look at the beautiful night outside, where the rapidly 
sinking. moon had given place to a host of stars that twinkled 
over the black gulf of Grasmere. 

It is no wonder that lovers love the starlight, and the infinite 
variety, and beauty, and silence of the strange darkness. But 
folks who have got beyond that period do not care so much to 
meet the mystery and the solemnity of the night. They may 
have experiences they would rather not recall. Who can tell 
what bitterness and grievous heart-wringing are associated with 
the wonderful peace and majesty of the throbbing midnight sky ? 
The strong man, with all his strength fled from him, has gone out 
in his utter misery, and cried, “ Oh, God, save my wife to me !” 
And the young mother, with her heart breaking, has looked up 
into the great abyss, and cried, “ Oh, God, give me back my 
baby !” and all the answer they have had was the silence of the 
winds and the faint and distant glimmer of the stars. They do 
not care any more to meet the gaze of those sad, and calm, and 
impenetrable eyes. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

Arthur’s song. 

“ Along the grass sweet airs are blown 
Our way this day in spring. 

Of all the songs that we have known, 

Now which one shall we sing ? 

Not that, my love, ah no ! 

Not this, my love ? why, so ! 

Yet both were ours, but hours will come and go. 

“ The branches cross above our eyes. 

The skies are in a net : 

And what’s the thing beneath the skies 
We two would most forget? 

Not birth, my love — no, no ; 

Not death, my love — no, no. 

The love once ours, but ours long hours ago.” 

We stood at the open window — my lady. Bell, and I — with 
the calm lake lying before us as darkly blue as the heart of a 
bell-flower, and with the hills on the other side grown gray, and 


288 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


green, and hazy in the morning sunlight. Bell had brought us 
thither. The lieutenant was outside, and we could hear him talk- 
ing to some one, although he had no idea of our presence. Was 
it fair to steal a march on the young fellow, and seek to learn 
something of the method by which he became familiarly ac- 
quainted with every man, woman, and child we met on our jour- 
ney ? In such matters I look to Tita for guidance. If she says 
a certain thing is proper, it is proper. And at this moment 
she was standing just inside the curtains, listening, with a great 
amusement on her face, to the sounds which reached us from 
below. 

“Ay, ah wur born in eighteen hunderd — that’s a long time 
ago — a long time ago,” said a quavering old voice, that was some- 
times interrupted by a fit of asthmatic coughing ; “ and you don’t 
remember the great comet — the comet of eighteen hunderd an’ 
eleven ? No ! See that now ! And ah wur a boy at that time ; 
but I can remember the great comet of eighteen hunderd an’ 
eleven — I remember it well now — and ah wur born in eighteen 
hunderd. How long ago is that, now ?” 

“ Why, that’s easily counted,” said the lieutenant ; “ that’s sev- 
enty-one years ago. But you look as hale and as fresh as a man 
of forty.” 

“Seventy-one — ay, that it is — and you don’t remember the 
comet of eighteen hunderd an’ eleven ?” 

“ No, I don’t. But how have you kept your health and your 
color all this time ? That is the air of the mountains gives you 
this good health, I suppose.” 

“ Lor bless ye, ah don’t belong to these parts. No. Ah wur 
born in the New Forest, in eighteen hunderd — Ringwood, that’s 
the place — that’s in the New Forest, a long way from eear. Do 
you know Ringwood ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Nor Poole?” 

“No.” 

“ Lor bless ye ! Never been to Poole ! Do ye know South- 
ampton ?” 

“ No.” 

“Bless my soul! Never been to Poole? There now! And 
you don’t know Southampton, where all the ships are? — ay, a 
famous sight o’ ships, I can tell ye. And you’ve never been to 


Arthur’s song. 


289 


Southampton — Lor bless ye, you ain’t much of a traveller ! But 
there now, ain’t you a Frenchman ?” 

“ No.” 

“Go along with you! Not a Frenchman? An’ you don’t 
know Poole? It’s a big place, Poole, and ah reckon it’s grown 
bigger now, for it’s many a year ago since ah wur there. When 
ah wur a boy — that’s many a year ago — for ah remember well 
the great comet, in eighteen hunderd an’ eleven — you don’t re- 
member that ? No 1 God bless my soul, you’re only a boy yet 1 
And ah wur born seventy year ago; and when ah went up to 
Lunnon, ah wur such a simple chap !” 

We could hear the old man laughing and chuckling, until a fit 
of coughing seized him, and then he proceeded : 

“ Ah wur taking a bridle down to my mahster, and — what’s the 
bridge you go over ? Dear me, dear me ! my memory isn’t as 
good as it once was — ” 

And at this point the old man stopped, and puzzled and hesi- 
tated about the name of the bridge, until the lieutenant besought 
him never to mind that, but to go on with his story. But no. 
He would find out the name of the bridge ; and after having re- 
peated twenty times that he was born in 1800, and could remem- 
ber the comet of 1811, he hit upon the name of Blackfriars. 

“An’ there wur a chap standin’ there, as come up to me and 
asked me if I would buy a silk handkerchief from him. He had 
two of ’em — Lor bless ye, you don’t know what rare good hand- 
kerchiefs we had then — white, you know, wi’ blue spots on ’em : 
they’re all gone out now, for it’s many a year ago. And that chap 
he thought ah’d bin sellin’ a oss ; and he made up to me, and he 
took me into a small public-’ouse close by, and says he, ‘Ah’ll be 
sworn a smart young fellow like you’ll ’ave a tidy bit o’ money 
in your pocket.’ An’ ah wur a smart young fellow then, as he 
said, but, God bless you, that’s many a year ago ; an’ now, would 
you believe it ? that chap got five shillins out o’ me for two of his 
handkerchiefs — he did indeed, as sure as I’m alive. Wasn’t it a 
shame to take in a poor country chap as wur up doing a job for 
his mahster ?” 

“ Five shillings for two silk handkerchiefs with blue spots ?” 
said the lieutenant. “ Why, it was you who did swindle that 
poor man. It is you that should be ashamed. And you took 
away the bridle safe ?” 

19 


290 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


**Ay, ah wur ffoin’ down to Winchester. Do ye know Win- 
chester 

‘‘No.” 

“Ha! ha! ha! Ah thought not! No, nor Poole? Have 
you ever been to Bristol ? — there now !” 

“ My dear friend, there are few men so great travellers as you 
have been. You should not boast of it.” 

“ But, Lor bless ye, don’t ye know the ships at Poole ? And 
Winchester — that’s a fine town, too, is Winchester. Ah’d a month 
at Winchester when ah wur a young man.” 

“ A month ! What do you mean by that ?” 

“Yes, that ah did. Lor, they were far stricter then than they 
are now.” 

“But what was this month you are speaking about?” 

“ Don’t ye know what a month in jail is for ketchin a rabbit ?” 

“ Oh, it was a rabbit, was it ?” 

The wicked old man laughed and chuckled again. 

“ Ay,” said he, “ ah got one month for ketchin one rabbit, but 
if they’d ’ave gi’en me a month for every rabbit and hare as ah’ve 
ketched. Lor bless ye ! — you young fellows nowadays know noth- 
in’ ! You’re simple chaps, that’s what it is ! Have you ever 
heard of the great comet of eighteen hunderd an’ eleven ? There 
now ! And the crowds as come out to see it — stretchin’ out — 
long — jest as it might be the long gown as mothers put on young 
things when they’re carried about ; and that wur in eighteen 
’underd an’ eleven. But I’m gettin’ old now and stiff ; and them 
rheumatics they do trouble one so when they come on bad in the 
night-time. I’m not what I was at your age — you’ll be thirty 
now, or forty mayhap ?” 

“ Nearer thirty.” 

“ Ah never ’ad so much hair as you — it wur never the fashion 
to wear hair on the face at that time.” 

“And you followed the fashion, of course, when you were a 
young fellow, and went courting the girls — yes ?” 

This hint seemed to wake up the old man into a high state of 
glee ; and as he began to tell of his exploits in this direction, 
he introduced so many unnecessary ejaculations into his talk 
that my lady somewhat hastily withdrew, dragging Bell with her. 
The old rogue outside might have been with our army in Flan- 
ders, to judge by the force of his conversation ; and the stories 


Arthur’s song. 


291 


that he told of his wild adventures in such distant regions as 
Poole and Southampton showed that his memory treasured other 
recollections than that of the 1811 comet. How the conversation 
ended I do not know ; but by -and -by Von Rosen came in to 
breakfast. 

It is a shame for two women to have a secret understanding 
between them, and look as if they could scarcely keep from smil- 
ing, and puzzle a bashful young man by enigmatical questions. 

“ Madame,” said the lieutenant, at last, “ I am very stupid. I 
cannot make out what you mean.” 

“ And neither can she,” observes one who hates to see a worthy 
young man bothered by two artful women. “ Her joke is like 
the conundrum that was so good that the man who made it, after 
trying for two years and a half to find out what it meant, gave it 
up, and cut his throat. Don’t you heed them. Cut the salad, 
like a good fellow, and let Bell put in the oil, and the vinegar, and 
what not. Now, if that girl would only take out a patent for her 
salad-dressing, we should all be rolling in wealth directly.” 

“ I should call it the Nebuchadnezzar,” said Bell. 

My lady pretended not to hear that remark, but she was very 
angry ; and all desire of teasing the lieutenant had departed from 
her face, which was serious and reserved. Young people must 
not play pranks with Scripture names, in however innocent a 
fashion. 

“ It is a very good thing to have salad at breakfast,” said the 
lieutenant ; “ although it is not customary in your country. It is 
very fresh, very pleasant, very wholesome in the morning. Now, 
if one were to eat plenty of salad, and live in this good mountain 
air, one might live a long time — ” 

“One might live to remember the comet of eighteen ’underd 
an’ eleven,” observed Bell, with her eyes cast down. 

The lieutenant stared for a moment, and then he burst into a 
roar of laughter. 

“ I have discovered the joke,” he cried. “ It is that you did 
listen to that old man talking to me. Oh, he was a very wicked 
old person — ” 

And here, all at once. Yon Rosen stopped. A great fiush of 
red sprung to the young fellow’s face ; he was evidently contem- 
plating with dismay the possibility of my lady having overheard 
all the dragoon-language of the old man. 


292 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ We heard only up to a certain point,” says madam, sedately. 
“ When he began to be excited. Bell and I withdrew.” 

The lieutenant was greatly relieved. The septuagenarian was 
not a nice person for ladies to listen to. Indeed, in one direction 
he was amply, qualified to have written a ''^Dialogue between a 
Man and a Cat : being a Discussion as to which would like to use 
the most Bad Language when the Tail of the Latter is trodden 
upon'' Such an essay would be instructive in results, but objec- 
tionable in tone. 

All this while we had heard nothing of Arthur. That morn- 
ing when Tita sent down to inquire if there were any letters for 
us at the post-office and found there were none, she must needs 
send an urgent telegram to Twickenham, to see if the young 
man’s parents knew anything of his whereabouts. Of course 
they could not possibly know. Doubtless he was on his way to 
Carlisle. Perhaps we should have the pleasure of meeting him 
in Edinburgh. 

But this indefinite postponement of the coming of Arthur was 
a grievous irritation to the lieutenant. It was no relief to him 
that his rival was disposed to remain absent. The very odd po- 
sition in which he was now placed made him long for any result 
that would put an end to his suspense ; and I think he was as 
anxious about seeing Arthur as any of us — that is to say, presum- 
ing Arthur to be certain to come sooner or later. If it should 
happen that the dog-cart had been upset — But there is no use 
in speculating on the horrible selfishness that enters into the 
hearts of young men who are in love and jealous. 

All these things and many more the young Prussian revealed 
to the sympathetic silence of Grasmere and the fair green moun- 
tains around, as he and I set out for a long walk. The women 
had gone to pay visits in the village and its neighborhood. It 
seemed a pity to waste so beautiful a day in going into a series 
of houses ; but my lady was inexorable whenever she established 
to her own satisfaction that she owed a certain duty. 

The lieutenant bade Bell good-bye with a certain sadness in his 
tone. He watched them go down the white road, in the glare of 
the sunshine, and then he turned with a listless air to set out on 
his pilgrimage into the hills. Of what avail was it that the lake 
out there shone a. deep and calm blue under the clear sky, that 
the reflection of the wooded island was perfect as the perfect 


Arthur’s song. 


293 


mirror, and that the far hills had drawn around them a thin trem- 
ulous veil of silver gauze under the strong heat of the sun ? The 
freshness of the morning, when a light breeze blew over from the 
west, and stirred the reeds of the lake, and awoke a white ripple 
in by the shore, had no etfect in brightening up his face. He 
was so busy talking of Bell, and of Arthur, and of my lady, that 
it was with a serene unconsciousness he allowed himself to be led 
away from the lake into the lonely regions of the hills. 

Even a hardy young Uhlan finds his breath precious when he 
is climbing a steep green slope, scrambling up shelves of loose 
earth and slate, and clinging on to bushes to help him in his as- 
cent. There were interruptions in this flow of lovers’ complain- 
ings. After nearly an hour’s climbing. Von Rosen had walked 
and talked Bell out of his head ; and as he threw himself on a 
slope of Rydal Fell, and pulled out a flask of sherry and his cigar- 
case, he laughed aloud, and said, 

“ No, I had no notion we were so high. Hee I that is a view ! 
one does not see that often in my country — all houses and men 
swept away — you are alone in the world — and all around is noth- 
ing but mountains and lakes.” 

Indeed, there was away towards the south a net-work of hill 
and water that no one but Bell would have picked to pieces for 
us — thin threads of silver lying in long valleys, and mounds upon 
mounds rising up into the clear blue sky that sloped down to the 
white line of the sea. Coniston we could make out, and Win- 
dermere we knew. Esthwaite we guessed at ; but of what avail 
was guessing, when we came to that wild and beautiful panorama 
beyond and around ? 

The lieutenant’s eyes went back to Grasmere. 

“ How long is it you think madame will pay her visits ?” 

“ Till the afternoon, probably. They will lunch with some of 
their friends.” 

“ And we — do we climb any more mountains ?” 

“ This is not a mountain— it is a hill. We shall climb or go 
down again just as you please.” 

“ There is nothing else to do but to wait if we go down ?” 

“ I suppose you mean waiting for the ladies to return. No ^ 
our going down won’t bring them back a minute the sooner.” 

“ Then let us go on, anywhere.” 

We had a long, aimless, and devious wandering that day among 


294 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


the grassy slopes and peaks of Rydal Fell, until we at length came 
down by the gorge through which Rydal Beck plunges, foaming 
into the valley below. Wherever we went, the lieutenant seemed 
chiefly to be concerned in making out the chief places of beauty 
which we should bring the women to see on the morrow — as if 
Bell did not know Rydal Beck and all its falls as well as she knew 
Walton Heath. And then we got down the winding road by Ry- 
dal Mount, and walked leisurely back by Rydal Water to Gras- 
mere. 

What was this that confronted us as we went into the hotel, 
and went forward to the large windows? The sun was lying 
brightly on the hills, and the lake, and the garden in front of us ; 
and on the lawn — which was a blaze of bright color — three fig- 
ures stood, throwing jet-black shadows on the green. Von Rosen 
stared, as well he might stare. For there were Bell and Tita, 
engaged in earnest and interesting talk with a young man; and 
the young man was Arthur. 

For a second or two the lieutenant did not utter a word ; but 
presently he remarked, with a fine affectation of carelessness, 

“ Have they had lunch, do you think?” 

“ Let us go and see,” I say ; and so our Uhlan stalks gloomily 
out into the garden. 

Our appearance seemed to cause great embarrassment to the 
party on the lawn. Arthur, with a flush on his face, greeted us 
stifliy ; and then he suddenly turned to Queen Tita, and continued 
his talk with her in an ostentatiously impressive manner, as though 
he would give us to understand that he would take no more no- 
tice of us. Bell, apparently, had been rather left out in the cold. 
Perhaps she was a little vexed — for even the most amiable of 
girls have their notions of pride — and so what must she do but 
immediately turn to the lieutenant, and ask him with much friend- 
liness all about his forenoon’s ramble. 

If thankfulness, and kindliness, and all the modest and grate- 
ful respect of love were ever written on a young man’s face, they 
dwelt in the eyes of our Uhlan as he was almost struck dumb by 
this signal mark of Bell’s condescension. He took no great ad- 
vantage of the permission accorded to him. He did not seek to 
draw her away. In fact, after telling mademoiselle, with his eyes 
cast down, that he hoped she would come next day to see all that 
we had seen, he placed the burden of explanation on me, who 


Arthur’s song. 


295 


would rather have sat in the back benches and looked from a dis- 
tance at this strange comedy. 

But the effect upon Arthur of this harmless conduct of Bell’s 
was what might have been expected. When we turned to go into 
the hotel for luncheon, he was talking in rather a loud way, with 
a fine assumption of cynicism. He had not much to tell of his 
adventures, for the reason of his coming up so late was merely 
that the cob had gone a little lame, and had been brought with 
some care to Kendal, where it was to have a couple of days’ rest ; 
but his conversation took far wider sweeps than that. The climax 
of it came when we were sitting at table. All this time the lad had 
not addressed a word to Bell ; but now he suddenly observed, 

‘‘You remember that song of Lover’s you used to sing, about 
the white sails flowing ?” 

“ Yes,” said Bell : she had often sung it to him at his own request- 

“It is a pretty song,” said he, with rather a ghastly smile; 
“ but I heard a version of it the other night that I thought was u 
good deal truer. Shall I try to repeat the verses ?” 

“Yes, do,” says Queen Titania, with no great cordiality in her 
tone. She half anticipated what was coming. 

“ This is the first verse,” said the young man, glancing rather 
nervously at Bell, and then instantly withdrawing his eyes : 

“ What will you do, love, when I am going. 

With white sails flowing, the seas beyond ? 

What will you do, love, when waves divide us. 

And friends may chide us, for being fond ?” 

When waves divide us, and friends are chiding, 

Afar abiding. I’ll think anew ; 

And I’ll take another devoted lover. 

And I’ll kiss him as I kissed you.” 

A frightful silence prevailed. We all of us knew that the reck^ 
less young man was rushing on self-destruction. Could he have de- 
vised a more ingenious method of insulting Bell ? He proceeded : 

“ What will you do, love, if distant tidings 
Thy fond confidings should undermine ? 

And I abiding ’neath sultry skies 

Should think other eyes were as bright as thine ?” 

“Ah, joyful chance ! If guilt or shame 
Were round thy name, could I be true ? 

For I’d take the occasion, without much persuasion. 

To have another flirtation — that’s what I’d do.” 


296 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


If there are angels who watch over the fortunes of unhappy 
lovers, surely they must have wept at this moment. These fool- 
ish verses, and another one which fear of my lady prevents my 
publishing here, were the actual outcome of all the rebellious 
thoughts that had been rankling in his mind like poison during 
these last few days. Along the lonely highway, this was the dev- 
il’s dirge he had been crooning to himself. He had fed on its 
unholy bitterness as he sat in remote inns, and pictured to him- 
self, with a fierce satisfaction, the scene in which he would recite 
the lines to Bell before the whole of us. 

And now the deed was done. He sat silent for a moment; 
and we were all of us silent. A waiter said, “ Sherry, sir ?” be- 
hind his ear, and he started. And then Queen Tita turned to 
Von Rosen, and asked him if he had seen Rydal Mount. 

It was a pitiable thing. In public life a man may force him- 
self into the chancellorship of the exchequer, or some such ofiice, 
by departing into a Cave of Adullam, and marshalling the discon- 
tented around him ; but in love affairs, how is a man to profit by 
an exhibition of angry passion and recklessness ? Force is of no 
avail ; threatening is as idle as the wind. And there was some- 
thing even more cruel than threatening in this recitation of the 
young man’s, as only those who were familiar with our life in 
Surrey could understand. What might come of it no one could 
• tell. 

[Note hy Queen Titania . — “ I am no judge of what ought to be placed be- 
fore the public. I leave that to those whose sense of good taste and proper 
feeling is probably better than mine. But if these most impertinent verses 
are to be published, I have to say that the implication contained in the first 
verse is cruelly false. To hint that Bell could have thought of kissing either 
Arthur or the lieutenant — or would have done so if they were Princes of the 
Blood — is most unjust and insulting to a girl whose pride and self-respect no 
one has ever dared to impeach. It is all very well for a stupid young man 
to say such things in a fit of ungovernable rage ; but what I know is that Bell 
cried very much about it, when she spoke to me about it afterward. And 
both my husband and Count Von Rosen sat still, and never said a word. If 
I had been a man, I think I should have told Arthur very plainly what I 
thought of his very pretty conduct. But I suppose they considered it a jest ; 
for I have frequently found that the notions of gentlemen about what is hu- 
morous are a little peculiar^'] 


ARMAGEDDON. 


297 


CHAPTER XXV. 

ARMAGEDDON. 

“ Let us go hence, my songs ; she will not hear. 

Let us go hence together without fear ; 

Keep silence now, for singing-time is over, 

And over all old things and all things dear. 

She loves not you nor me as all we love her. 

Yea, though we sung as angels in her ear, 

She would not hear.” 

Blow, wind ! and shriek, tempests ! Let all the gases be low- 
ered, and thunder roll through the gloom ! Tremble, ye forests 
of canvas, where twisted oaks and shattered elms bear witness to 
the agony of the scene ; and let the low music of the violoncello 
and the throbbing of muffled drums announce that dreadful deeds 
are brewing ! Alas ! we had no such thrilling accompaniments 
to the tragedy being enacted before our eyes on the fair shores 
of Grasmere. The lake lay as blue and as calm as though no 
perplexed and suffering human souls were by its side ; and in- 
stead of the appropriate darkness of a theatre, we had the far 
hills trembling under the white haze of the mid-day heat. Yet 
my lady saw none of these things. Her heart was rent asun- 
der by the troubles of the young folks under her charge, until I 
seemed to see in her speechless eyes a sort of despairing wish 
that she had never been born. 

“And yet,” I say to her, “you don’t see the worst of it. If 
Arthur is driven away by Bell, a far more terrible thing will be- 
fall him.” 

“ What ?” says Queen Titan ia, with the clear, brown eyes grown 
solemn. 

“ He will marry somebody else.” 

“ Bah !” she says, peevishly ; “ is this the time to be thinking 
of jests ?” 

“ Indeed, I know one who never discovered the joke of it. 
But don’t you think that he will ?” 

“ I wish he would.” 


13 ^ 


298 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“There’s little Katty Tatham, now, would give her ears to 
marry him.” 

“ You always fancy girls are very anxious to marry.” 

“ I never asked but one, and I found her ready enough.” 

“ I refused you.” 

“You made a pretence of doing so.” 

“ I wish I had kept to my first resolution.” 

“I wish you had, since you say so. But that’s of no conse- 
quence. I saved you from committing suicide, as I have fre- 
quently told you.” 

The small creature looks up, and with an excellent calmness 
and self-composure, says, 

“ I suppose you never heard of a young man — I thought him 
very silly at the time, myself — who walked about all night, one 
night at Eastbourne ; and in the morning, long before my mam- 
ma was up, aroused the servants, and sent in a letter — a sort of 
ultimatum it was — with all sorts of vows of vengeance and de- 
spair. That young man wasn’t Arthur Ashburton ; but when 
you complain of Arthur’s mad follies — ” 

“ Madam,” I say to her, “ your sex protects you. Go and live. 
But when you say that I complain of Arthur, and in the next 
breath accuse me of always bringing forward excuses for him — ” 

But what was the use of continuing the argument? My lady 
smiles with a fine air of triumph, confident that her ingenious 
logic had carried the day, as, in fact, it generally does. The man 
who endeavors to follow, seize, and confront the airy statements 
made by a lady in a difiiculty resembles nothing so much as a 
railway -train trying to catch a butterfly; and who would not 
back the butterfly ? 

We were now placed in an uncommonly awkward fix. The 
arrival of Arthur at Grasmere had produced a complication such 
as we had not dreamed of; for now it appeared as if the situation 
were to be permanent. We had somehow fancied that, as soon 
as he overtook us, some definite arrangement would be come to, 
settling at once and forever those rival pretensions which were 
interfering with our holiday in a serious manner. At last, my 
lady had considered, the great problem was to be finally solved ; 
and, of course, the solution lay in Bell’s hands. But, now Ar- 
thur had come, who was to move in the matter ? It was not for 
Bell, at all events, to come forward and say to one of the young 


ARMAGEDDON. 


299 


men “ Go !” and to the other “ Stay !” Neither of them, on the 
other hand, seemed disposed to do anything bold and heroic in 
order to rid us of this grievous embarrassment; and so the first 
afternoon passed away — with some more walking, visiting, and 
boating — in a stolidly and hopelessly reserved and dreary fashion. 

But every one of us knew that a mine lay close by, and that at 
any moment a match might be flung into it. Every word that 
was uttered was weighed beforehand. As for Tita, the poor lit- 
tle woman was growing quite pale and fatigued with her constant 
and nervous anxiety; until one of the party privately told her 
that if no one else asked Bell to marry, he would himself, and so 
end our troubles. 

“ I don’t know what to do,” she said, sitting down and folding 
her hands on her knees, while there was quite a pitiable expres- 
sion on her face. “I am afraid to leave them for a moment. 
Perhaps now they may be fighting ; but that does not much mat- 
ter, for Bell can’t have gone down-stairs to dinner yet. Don’t 
you think you could get Arthur to go away ?” 

“Of what use would that be? He went away before; and 
then we had our steps dogged, and letters and telegrams in every 
town. No ; let us have it out here.” 

“ I wish you and he would have it out between you. That 
poor girl is being frightened to death.” 

“ Say but one brief word, my dear, and Arthur will be feeding 
the fishes among the reeds of Grasmere before the morning. 
But would you really like Bell to send Arthur off ? Is he really 
to be told that she won’t marry him ? They used to be pets of 
yours. I have seen you regard them, as they walked before us 
along the lanes, with an amiable and maternal smile. Is it all 
over? Would you like him to go away, and never see us any 
more ?” 

“ Oh, I don’t know !” cries Tita, with the anxiety and pity and 
tenderness in her eyes almost grown into tears. 

That was a nice little project of hers with which we had start- 
ed from the old tavern in Holborn. It had been tolerably suc- 
cessful. If Bell were not in love with the lieutenant, there could 
be no doubt, at least, that the lieutenant was hopelessly and over 
head and ears in love with Bell. It was a pretty comedy for a 
time ; and my lady had derived an infinite pleasure and amuse- 
ment from watching the small and scarcely perceptible degrees 


300 . THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

by which the young folks got drawn towards each other. What 
would have been the beautiful pictures of English scenery we had 
driven through, without two young lovers in the foreground, try- 
ing to read their fate in each other’s eyes, and affording us elder- 
ly folks all manner of kindly and comic reminiscences ? 

It had all turned out very well ; until, suddenly, came the rev- 
elation that the greatest happiness of the greatest number had 
demanded a human victim ; and here he was before us, with gory 
locks and piteous eyes, demanding justice. Never before had my 
lady fully realized what was meant in the final sending away of 
Arthur ; and now that she saw before her all the consequences of 
her schemes, she was struck to the heart, and dared scarcely ask 
for some reassurance as to what she had done. 

“ Oh,” she says, “ I hope I have done right !” 

“You? Why should you assume any responsibility ? Let the 
young folks arrange their own affairs as they like best. Do you 
think, if Bell had been willing to break with Arthur, that your 
packing off the lieutenant to Germany would prevent her making 
the acquaintance of some other man ? And she has not broken 
off with Arthur. If she does so, she does so, and there’s an end 
of it ; but why should you vex yourself about it ?” 

She was not to be comforted. She shook her head, and con- 
tinued to sit there with her eyes full of anxious cares. When at 
length she went off to dress hastily for dinner, it was with a de- 
termination that from that moment she would endeavor to help 
Arthur in every way she could. That was the form her repent- 
ance took. 

If the young man had only known that he had secured such a 
valuable ally ! But just at this time — amidst all our perplexity 
as to who should first precipitate matters, what should the reck- 
less fellow do but startle us all with a declaration which wholly 
altered the aspect of affairs ! 

We were seated at dinner. It was in the private room we had 
engaged, and the evening light, reflected from the lake outside, 
was shining upon Tita’s gentle face as she sat at the head of 
the table. Bell was partly in shadow. The two young men, by 
some fatal mischance, sat next each other : probably because nei- 
ther wished to take the unfair advantage offered by the empty 
seat next to Bell. 

Well, something had occurred to stir up the smouldering fires 


ARMAGEDDON. 


301 


of Arthur’s wrath. He had been treated with great and even 
elaborate courtesy by everybody — but more particularly by Bell 
— during our afternoon rambles; but something had evidently 
gone wrong. There was a scowl on the fair and handsome face, 
that was naturally pleasant, boyish, and agreeable in appearance. 
He maintained a strict silence for some little time after dinner 
was served, although my lady strove to entice him into the gen- 
eral talk. But presently he looked up, and, addressing her, said, 
in a forcedly merry way, 

“Should you like to be startled?” 

“Hes, please Tita would probably have said, so anxious is 
she to humor everybody; but just then he added, in the same 
reckless and defiant tone, 

“ What if I tell you I am going to get married ?” 

An awful consternation fell upon us. 

“ Oh,” says my lady, in a hurried fashion, “ you are joking, 
Arthur.” 

“ No, I am not. And when I present the young lady to you, 
you will recognize an old friend of yours, whom you haven’t seen 
for years.” 

To put these words down on paper can give no idea whatever 
of the ghastly appearance of jocularity which accompanied them, 
nor of the perfectly stunning effect they produced. The women 
were appalled into silence. Von Rosen stared, and indifferently 
played with the stem of his wine-glass. For mere charity’s sake, 
I was driven into filling up this horrible vacuum of silence ; and 
so I asked — with what show of appropriateness married people may 
judge — whether he had formed any plans for the buying of furniture. 

Furniture ! ’Tis an excellent topic. Everybody can say some- 
thing about it. My lady, with a fiash of gratitude in her inmost 
soul, seized upon the cue, and said, 

“ Oh, Arthur, have you seen our sideboard?” 

Now, when a young man tells you he is about to get married, 
it is rather an odd thing to answer “OA, Arthur — or Tom, or 
Dick, or Harry, as the case may be — have you seen our sideboard P 
But all that my lady wanted was to speak ; for Arthur, having ac- 
complished his intention of startling us, had relapsed into silence. 

“ Of course he has seen the sideboard,” I say for him. “ He 
was familiar with the whole of that fatal transaction.” 

“ Why fatal ?” says the lieutenant. 


302 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


You see, we were getting on. 

“Bell will tell you the history. No? Then I will, for the 
benefit of all folks who may have to furnish a house ; and I hope 
Arthur — after the very gratifying announcement he has just 
made — will take heed.” 

“ Oh yes,” says Arthur, gayly, “ let us have all your experience 
about house matters. It is never too soon to learn.” 

“Very well. There was once a sideboard which lived in Dor- 
king — ” 

Here the lieutenant begged to know what piece of furniture a 
sideboard was ; and when that was explained to him, the legend 
was continued: 

“ It was a very grand old sideboard of carved oak, which had 
regarded the dinner-parties of several generations from its recess. 
At last it had to be sold at public auction. A certain agreeable 
and amiable lady, who lives on the banks of the river Mole, saw 
this sideboard, and was told she might have it for a trifle of nine- 
ty-five guineas. She is an impressionable person. The side- 
board occupied her thoughts day and night; until at last her 
husband, who is the most obliging person in the world, and has 
no other desire in life than to obey her wishes — ” 

Here there were some interruptions at the farther end of the 
table. Silence having been restored, the speaker went on to say 
that the sideboard was bought. 

“ It was the beginning of the troubles of that wretched man. 
When you have an old oak sideboard that farmers’ wives will 
drive twenty miles to look at, you must have old oak chairs. 
When you have old oak chairs, a microcephalous idiot would 
know that you must have an old oak table. By slow degrees the 
home of this unhappy man underwent transformation. Rooms 
that had been familiar to him, and homely, became gloomy halls 
from which ghosts of a cheerful temperament would have fled 
in despair. People came to dinner, and sat in the high-backed 
chairs with an expression of resigned melancholy on their faces ; 
and now and again an unlucky lady of weight and dimensions 
would, on trying to rise from the table, tilt up the chair and save 
herself from falling by clinging to the arm of the man next her. 
For, of course, you can’t have casters on old oak chairs, and when 
the stumps of wood have got well settled into the thick Turkey* 
carpet, how is the chair to be sent back ?” 


ARMAGEDDON. 


303 


“ That is quite absurd,” says a voice. “ Every one says our 
dining-room chairs are exceedingly comfortable.” 

“ Yours are ; but this is another matter. Now the lady of the 
house did not stop at oak furniture and solemn carpets and se- 
vere curtains. She began to dress herself and her children to 
match her furniture. She cut the hair of her own babes to suit 
that sideboard. There was nothing heard of but broad lace col- 
lars, and black-velvet garments, and what not ; so that the boys 
might correspond with the curtains, and not be wholly out of 
keeping with the chairs. She made a dress for her own mother, 
which that estimable lady contemplated with profound indigna- 
tion, and asked how she could be expected to appear in decent 
society in a costume only fit for a fancy ball.” 

“ It was a most beautiful dress, wasn’t it. Bell ?” says a voice. 

“ But far worse was to come. She began to acquire a taste for 
everything that was old and marvellous. She kept her husband 
for hours stifiing in the clammy atmosphere of Soho, while she 
ransacked dirty shops for scraps of crockery that were dear in 
proportion to their ugliness. Daring these hours of waiting he 
thought of many things — suicide among the number. But what 
he chiefiy ruminated on was the pleasing and ingenious theory 
that in decoration everything that is old is genuine, and every- 
thing that is new is meretricious. He was not a person of pro- 
found accomplishments — ” 

“ Hear, hear !” says a voice. 

— “and so he could not understand why he should respect 
the intentions of artists who, a couple of centuries ago, painted 
fans, and painted them badly, and why he should treat with scorn 
the intentions of artists who at this moment paint fans, and paint 
them well. He could not acquire any contempt for a French 
vase in gold and white and rose-color, even when it was put be- 
side a vase some three hundred years of age which was chiefiy 
conspicuous by its defective curves and bad color. As for Italian 
mirrors and blue and white china, he received without emotion 
the statement that all the world of London was wildly running 
after these things. He bore meekly the contemptuous pity be- 
stowed on him when he expressed the belief that modern Vene- 
tian glass was, on the whole, a good deal more beautiful than any 
he had seen of the old, and when he proposed to buy some of it 
as being more within the means of an ordinary person. But 


304 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


when at last, after having waited a mortal hour in a dingy hole 
in a dingy thoroughfare near Leicester Square, he was goaded 
into rebellion, and declared that he did not care a brass farthing, 
nor even the half of that sum, when an object of art was made, 
how it was made, where it was made, or by whom it was made, 
so long as it fulfilled its first duty of being good in design and 
workmanship and agreeable to the eye — it seemed to him that 
the end of his conjugal happiness was reached. Nothing short 
of a legal separation could satisfy the injured feelings of his wife. 
That she should have to live with this Goth and outer barbarian 
seemed to her monstrous. But at this time it occurred to her 
that she might find some use for even such a creature, consider- 
ing that he was still possessed of a little money — ” 

“ You seldom omit to bring that forward,” says the voice. 

— “and that there was a drawing-room to be transformed. 
Then he beheld strange things. Phantom curtains of black and 
gold began to steal into the house. Hidden mysteries dwelt in 
the black, yellow, and red of the carpet ; and visitors paused upon 
the threshold for a moment to collect their wits, after the first 
stun of looking in. Then all the oil of Greenland was unable to 
light up this gloomy chamber in the evening ; and so there came 
down from London mighty sheets of mirrors to be let into the 
walls. ‘ Now,’ said this reckless woman to her husband, ‘ we 
must have a whole series of dinner - parties, to ask everybody to 
come and see what the house looks like.’ ” 

“ Oh, what a story !” cries that voice again. “ Bell, did you 
ever hear the like of that ? I wonder he does not say we put the 
prices on the furniture and invited the people to look at the cost. 
You don’t believe it, do you. Count Von Rosen?” 

“ No, madame,” said the lieutenant ; “ I do not believe any 
lady exists such as that one which he describes.” 

“ But he means me,” says Tita. 

“ Then what shall I say ?” continues the young man. “ May I 
say that I have never seen — not in England, not in Germany — 
any rooms so beautifully arranged in the colors as yours ? And 
it was all your own design ? Ha ! — I know he is calling atten- 
tion to that for the purpose of complimenting you — that is it.” 

Of course, that mean-spirited young man took every opportu- 
nity of flattering and cajoling Bell’s chief adviser ; but what if 
he had known at this moment that she had gone over to the 


ARMAGEDDON. 


305 


enemy, and mentally vowed to help Arthur by every means in 
her power ? 

She could not do much for him that evening. After dinner 
we had a little music, but there was not much life or soul in it. 
Arthur could sing an ordinary drawing-room song as well as an- 
other, and we half expected him to reveal his sorrows in that 
way ; but he coldly refused. The lieutenant, at my lady’s urgent 
request, sat down to the piano and sung the song that tells of the 
maiden who lived “ im Winkel am Thore but there was an ab- 
sence of that spontaneity which generally characterized his rough 
and ready efforts in music, and, after missing two of the verses, 
he got over his task with an air of relief. It was very hard that 
the duty of dispelling the gloom should have been thrown on 
Bell ; but when once she sat down and struck one or two of those 
minor chords which presaged one of the old ballads, we found 
a great refuge from our embarrassment. We were in another 
world then — with Chloe plaiting flowers in her hair, and Robin 
hunting in the green -wood with his fair lady, who was such a 
skilful archer, and all the lasses and lads kissing each other round 
the May -pole. With what a flne innocence Bell sung of these 
merry goings-on ! I dare say a good many well-conducted young 
persons would have stopped with the stopping of the dancing, 
and never told what happened after the fiddler had played “ Pack- 
ington’s Pound ” and “ Sellinger’s Round.” But our Bell, with 
no thought of harm, went merrily on, 

“ Then after an hour 
They went to a bower. 

And played for ale and cakes, 

And kisses too — 

Until they were due 
The lasses held the stakes. 

The girls did then begin 
To quarrel with the men. 

And bid them take their kisses back. 

And give them their own again !” 

In fact, there was a very bright smile of amusement on her face, 
and you could have fancied that her singing was on the point of 
breaking into laughter; for how could the girl know that my 
lady was looking rather reserved at the mention of that peculiar 
sort of betting ? But then the concluding verse comes back to 
the realms of propriety; and Bell sung it quite gently and ten- 
20 


306 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


derly, as thougli she, too, were bidding good-bye to her compan- 
ions in a frolic : 

“ ‘ Good-night,’ says Harry ; 

‘ Good-night,’ says Mary; 

‘ Good-night,’ says Dolly to John ; 

‘ Good-night,’ says Sue 
To her sweetheart Hugh ; 

‘ Good-night,’ says every one. 

Some walked, and some did run, 

Some loitered on the way. 

And bound themselves by kisses twelve 
To meet next holiday — 

And bound themselves by kisses twelve 
To meet next holiday !” 

“ Mademoiselle,” said Yon Rosen, coming forward to her with 
quite a paternal air, “ you must not sing any more to-night. You 
are always too ready to sing for us ; and you do not reflect of 
the fatigue.” And as Bell stood rather embarrassed by this ex- 
hibition of thoughtfulness, and as Arthur glowered gloomily out 
from his corner, the lieutenant made some excuse for himself and 
me, and presently we found ourselves out by the shores of the 
lake, smoking a contemplative cigar under the clear starlight. 

“ Now, my good friend,” he said, suddenly, “ tell me — is it a 
lie, yes ?” 

“ Is what a lie ?” 

“ That foolish story that he will be married.” 

“ Oh, you mean Arthur. I had almost forgotten what he said 
at dinner. Well, perhaps it is a lie: young men in love are al- 
ways telling lies about something or other.” 

“ Heh !” says the lieutenant, peevishly ; “ you do know it is 
not true. How can it be true ?” 

“ Of course you want me to say that I think it true : you boys 
are so unreasonable. I don’t know anything about it. I don’t 
care. If he wants to marry some girl or other, I hope he may. 
The wish is perhaps not very friendly — ” 

“ Now look at this !” says the lieutenant, quite flercely, and in 
a voice so loud that I was afraid it might reach the windows of 
the hotel that were now sending a yellow light over the lawn : 
“ if he means to marry some other young lady, why is he here ? 
He has no business here. Why does he come here to annoy 
every one and make himself miserable ? He ought to go away ; 
and it is you that should send him away.” 


ARMAGEDDOK^o 


307 


“ Bless me ! Surely a man may come and stop at a hotel at 
Grasmere without asking my permission. I have no right to for- 
bid Arthur remaining in Westmoreland or any other county. He 
does not ask me to pay his bills.” 

“ This that madame says it is quite true, then,” says the lieu- 
tenant, angrily, “ that you care only for your own comfort !” 

“ When madame says such things, my good friend, she retains 
the copyright. Don’t let her hear you repeating them, if you are 
wise, or you’ll get into trouble. As for myself, this cigar is excel- 
lent, and you may let your vexation take any shape that is handy. 
I foresaw that we should soon have two Arthurs in the field.” 

The tall young soldier walked up and down for a minute or 
two, evidently in great distress, and at last he stopped, and said, 
in a very humble voice, 

“ My dear friend, I beg your pardon. I do not know what I 
say when I see this pitiful fellow causing so much pain to your 
wife and to mademoiselle. Now, when you look at them — not 
at me at all — will not you endeavor to do something ?” 

He was no great hand at diplomacy, this perplexed and stam- 
mering Uhlan, who seemed bent on indicting his anger on his 
cigar. To introduce the spectacle of two suffering women so as 
to secure the banishment of his rival was a very transparent de- 
vice, and might have provoked laughter, but that Grasmere is 
deep, and a young man in love exceedingly irritable. 

“ He says he is going to marry some other girl : what more 
would you like? You don’t want to carry off all his sweethearts 
from the unfortunate youth ?” 

“ But it is not true.” 

“ Very well.” 

“And you talk of carrying off his sweetheart. Mademoiselle 
was never his sweetheart, I can assure you of that ; and, besides, 
I have not carried her off, nor am likely to do that, so long as 
this wretched fellow hangs about, and troubles her much with his 
complainings. Now, if she will only say to me that I may send 
him away, I will give you my word he is not in this part of the 
country, no, not one day longer.” 

“Take care. You can’t commit murder in this country with 
impunity, except in one direction. You may dispose of your 
wife as you please ; but if you murder any reasonable being, you 
will suffer.” 


808 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Indeed, the lieutenant, pacing up and down the narrow path 
by the lake, looked really as if he would have liked to catch Ar- 
thur up and dash him against Mercator’s Projection, or some 
other natural phenomenon; and the more he contemplated his 
own helplessness in the matter, the more he chafed and fumed. 
The moon rose slowly from behind the hills, and ran along the 
smooth surface of the lake, and found him nursing this volcano 
of wrath in his breast. But suddenly, as he looked up, he saw 
the blind of one of the hotel-windows thrust aside, and he knew 
that Bell was there, contemplating the wonderful beauties of the 
sky. He ceased his growlings. A more human expression came 
over his face ; and then he proposed that we should go in, lest 
the ladies should want to say good-night. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE LAST OF GRASMERE. 

“ Muss aus dem Thai jetzt schieden. 

Wo alles Lust und Klang; 

Das ist mein herbstes Leiden, 

Mein letzter Gang ! 

Dich, mein stilles Thai, 

Griiss’ ich tausend Mai ! 

Das ist mein herbstes Leiden, 

Mein letzter Gang !” 

A STILL greater surprise was in store for ns next morning. 
My lady had taken leave to discredit altogether the story of Ar- 
thur’s approaching marriage. She regarded it as merely the wild 
and reckless utterance of vexation. For the young man’s sake, 
she hoped that no one would make any allusion to this topic, 
and that he himself would allow it to fall into the rapidly running 
waters of oblivion. 

Now, he had on the previous day despatched a message to 
Kendal to the effect that the dog-cart should be at once sent to 
him, if the cob had quite recovered. He proposed to accompany 
us as far as Penrith or Carlisle ; farther than that he said he did 
not care to go. But as the trap was likely to arrive that fore- 
noon, and as he had to see the man who would bring it, he beg- 
ged us to start for our forenoon’s walk by ourselves — a proposal 


THE LAST OF GRASMERE. 


309 


which was accepted with equanimity by the whole of our party. 
The young man was quite complaisant. My lady was very at- 
tentive to him ; and we thought we should start for our ramble 
with the consciousness that we had left behind us no wretched 
creature eating away his heart with thoughts of revenge. 

Somehow this mood passed rapidly away from him. The 
spectacle of Bell and the lieutenant planning with a great joy 
the outline of our morning excursion seemed to bring back all 
the bitterness of his spirit. He was silent for a long time — un- 
til, indeed, we were ready to leave the hotel ; and then, as he ac- 
companied us to the door, he produced a letter, and said, with an 
affectation of carelessness, 

“By -the -way, I have a message for you. It was lucky I 
thought of going round to the post-oflSce this morning, or I 
should have probably missed this. Katty Tatham desires to be 
remembered to you all, and hopes you will bring her back a 
piece of Scotch heather to show that you went all the way. 
Ta-ta!” 

He waved his hand to us, and went in. My lady looked at me 
solemnly, and said nothing for a moment, until Bell had passed 
along the road a little bit with the lieutenant. 

“ Is that another story, do you think ? Do you believe that 
Katty Tatham is actually in correspondence with him ?” 

“ He did not say so.” 

“He meant that we should infer it, at all events; and that, 
after what he said last night — ” 

Tita was dreadfully puzzled. She could understand how vexa- 
tion of spirit might drive a foolish young man into making a 
statement not wholly in accordance with fact ; but that he should 
repeat this legend in another way, and bring the name of a lady 
into it — no, Tita could scarcely believe that all this was untrue. 

She hurried up to Bell, and placed her hand within the young 
lady’s arm. 

“ Is it not strange that Katty Tatham should be writing to Ar- 
thur, if that was what he meant ?” 

“ Oh no, not at all. They are very old friends ; and, besides, 
she does all the letter-writing for her papa, who is almost blind, 
poor old man ! And what a nice girl she is, isn’t she, Tita?” 

Of course we were all anxious to persuade each other that 
Katty Tatham was the very nicest girl in all England, although 


310 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


none of us except Bell had seen her for two or three years ; and 
it was wonderful how this sort of talk brightened up the spirits 
of our party. The lieutenant grew quite interested in Katty 
Tatham. He was nearly praising her himself, although he had 
never heard her name until that moment. In short, the four of 
us were ready to swear that this poor little Katty was just as 
pleasant, and honest, and pretty, and charming a girl as was to be 
found anywhere in the world, or out of it, and that it was most 
singular that she had never married. Tita declared that she knew 
that Katty had had ever so many offers, and that it was not 
alone the frailties of her father that kept her from marrying. 

“ She must have been waiting for some one,” said the small 
woman, rather slyly. 

What a morning it was ! As we walked along the white road, 
in the stillness of the heat, the blue waters of Grasmere glimmered 
through the trees. Never had we seen the colors of Bell’s Fairy- 
land so intense. The hills in the distance had a silvery haze 
thrown over their pale purples, but here around us the sharp clear 
colors blazed in the sunshine — the deep-blue of Grasmere, the 
yellow-white of the road, and the various rich greens and browns 
of the trees and the shore. And then, by and by, we came in 
sight of Rydal Water. How different it was to the weird and 
gloomy lake we had found two evenings before lying buried be- 
tween the hills ! Now it seemed shallow and fair and light, with 
a gray shimmer of wind across its surface, breaking here and 
there the perfect mirror of the mountain-slopes and woods. In 
the absolute silence around us we could hear the water-hens call- 
ing to each other ; and out there among the reeds we could see 
them paddling about, dipping their heads into the lake, and flut- 
tering their wings. We walked on to Rydal Bridge, and had a 
look at the clear brown rivulet rushing down its narrow channel 
between the thick underwood and the trees. We took the lieu- 
tenant up to Rydal Mount — the small house with its tree-fuchsias 
standing bright and warm in the sunshine — and from the plateau 
in front beheld the great fair landscape around the silver-white 
lake of Windermere. We went up to the falls of Rydal Beck, 
and, in short, went the round of the ordinary tourist — all for the 
sake of our Prussian friend, we persuaded ourselves. Bell was 
his guide, and he looked as though he would have liked to be led 
forever. Perhaps he took away with him but a confused rec- 


THE LAST OF GRASMERE. 


311 


ollection of all the interesting things she told him ; but surely, 
if the young man has a memory, he cannot even now have for- 
gotten that bright, clear, warm day that was spent about Rydal, 
with a certain figure in the foreground that would have lent a 
strange and gracious charm to a far less beautiful picture. 

“ Is it not an odd thing,” I say to Queen Titania, who has been 
pulling and plaiting wild fiowers in order to let the young folks 
get ahead of us, “ how you associate certain groups of unheeding 
trees and streams and hills with various events in your life, and can 
never get over the impression that they wear such and such a look?” 

“ I dare say it’s quite true, but I don’t understand,” she says, 
with the calm impertinence that distinguishes her. 

“ If you will cease for a moment to destroy your gloves by 
pulling these weeds, I will tell you a story which will convey my 
meaning to your small intellect.” 

“ Oh, a story,” she says, with a beautiful sigh of resignation. 

“ There was a young lady once upon a time who was about to 
leave England and go with her mamma to live in the South-west 
of France. They did not expect to come back for a good num- 
ber of years, if ever they came back. And so a young man of 
their acquaintance got up a farewell banquet at Richmond, and 
several friends came down to the hotel. They sat in a room over- 
looking the windings of the river, and the soft masses of foliage, 
and the far landscape stretching on to Windsor. The young man 
had, a little time before, asked the young lady to marry him, and 
she refused ; but he bore her no malice — ” 

“ He has taken care to have his revenge since,” says Tita. 

‘‘You interrupt the story. They sat down to dinner on this 
summer evening. Every one was delighted with the view ; but 
to this wretched youth it seemed as though the landscape were 
drowned in sadness, and the river a river of unutterable grief. 
All the trees seemed to be saying good-bye, and when the sun 
went down, it was as though it would never light up any other 
day with the light of by-gone days. The mist came over the 
trees. The evening fell, slow, and sad, and gray. Down by the 
stream a single window was lighted up, and that made the mel- 
ancholy of the picture even more painful, until the young man, 
who had eaten nothing and drank nothing, and talked to people 
as though he were in a dream, felt as if all the world had grown 
desolate, and was no more worth having — ” 


312 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ If I had only known,” says Tita, in a voice so low and gentle 
that you could scarcely have heard it. 

“ And then, you know, the carriages came round ; and he saw 
her, with the others, come down -stairs prepared to leave. He 
bade good-night to the mamma, who got into the carriage. He 
bade good-night to her ; and she was about to get in too, when 
she suddenly remembered that she had left some flowers in the 
dining-room, and ran back to fetch them. Before he could over- 
take her she had got the flowers, and was coming back through 
the passage into the hall. ‘ It isn’t good-night, it is good-bye, we 
must say ’ — I think he said something like that ; and she held 
out her hand ; and somehow there was a very strange look in her 
eyes, just as if she were going to cry — But, you know, there’s 
no use in your crying just now about it.” 

Tita is pretending to smile, but a certain tremor of the lips is 
visible ; and so the narrator hurries on : 

“ Now look here. For the next three months — for the soft- 
hearted creature had hurriedly whispered that she might return 
to England then — that young man haunted Richmond. He pret- 
ty nearly ruined his prospects in life, and his digestion as well, by 
continual and solitary dining at The Star and Garter. He could 
have kissed the stone steps of that hotel, and never entered its 
vestibule without blessing the white pillars and blank walls. He 
spent hours in writing letters there — ” 

“ So that the Biarritz boatmen wondered why so many envel- 
opes should have the Richmond postmark,” says Tita; though 
how she could have learned anything about it goodness only 
knows. 

— “ and haled out every complaisant friend he could lay hands 
on to moon about the neighborhood. But the strange thing is 
this: that while he was in love with the vestibule of the hotel, 
he never saw the twilight fall over the Richmond woods without 
feeling a cold hand laid on his heart ; and when he thinks of the 
place now — with the mists coming over the trees and the river 
getting dark — he thinks that the view from Richmond Hill is the 
most melancholy in all the world.” 

“And what does he think of Eastbourne?” 

“ That is a very different thing. He and she got into the quar- 
relling stage there — ” 

“ In which they have successfully remained to the present time,” 


THE LAST OF GRASMERE. 


313 


But when she was young and innocent, she would always ad- 
mit that she had begun the quarrel.” 

“ On the contrary, she told stories in order to please him.” 

“That motive does not much control he? actions nowadays, 
at all events.” 

Here Tita would probably have delivered a crushing reply, but 
that Bell came up and said, 

“ What ! you two children fighting again ! What is it ail 
about ? Let me be umpire.” 

“ He says that there is more red in the Scotch daisies than in 
the English daisies,” says Tita, calmly. It was well done. Yet 
you should hear her lecture her two boys on the enormity of tell- 
ing a fib. 

How sad Bell was to leave the beautiful valley in which we 
had spent this happy time ! Arthur had got his dog-cart ; and 
when the phaeton was brought round, the major’s cob was also 
put to, and both vehicles stood at the door. We took a last look 
at Grasmere. “ Dich, mein stilles Thai !” said Bell, with a smile ; 
and the lieutenant looked quite shamefaced with pleasure to hear 
her quote his favorite song. Arthur did not so well like the in- 
troduction of those few words. He said, with a certain air of in- 
difference, 

“ Can I give anybody a seat in the dog-cart ? It would be a 
change.” 

“ Oh, thank you ; I should like so much to go with you, Ar- 
thur,” says Tita. 

Did you ever see the like of it ? The woman has no more no- 
tion of considering her own comfort than if she had the hide of 
an alligator, instead of being, as she is, about the most sensitive 
creature in the world. However, it is well for her — if she will 
permit me to say so — that she has people around her who are not 
quite so impulsively generous ; and on this occasion it was obvi- 
ously necessary to save her from being tortured by the fractious 
complainings of this young man, whom she would have sympa- 
thized with and consoled if the effort had cost her her life. 

“ No,” I say. “ That won’t do. We have got some stiff hills to 
climb presently, and some one must remain in the phaeton while the 
others walk. Now, who looks best in the front of the phaeton ?” 

“ Mamma, of course,” says Bell, as if she had discovered a co' 
nundrum ; and so the matter was settled in a twinkling. 


314 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

I think it would have been more courteous for Arthur to have 
given the phaeton precedence, considering who was driving it; 
but he was so anxious to show off the paces of Major Quinet’s 
cob, that on starting he gave the animal a touch of the whip that 
made the light and high vehicle spring forward in a surprising 
manner. 

“ Young man, reflect that you are driving the father of a fam- 
ily,” I say to him. 

Nevertheless, he went through the village of Grasmere at a 
considerable rate of speed ; and when we got well up into the 
road which goes by the side of the Rothay into the region of the 
hills, we found that we had left Tita and her company far behind. 
Then he began to walk the cob. 

“ Look here !” he said, quite fiercely ; “ is Bell going to marry 
that German fellow ?” 

“ How do I know ?” I answer, astonished by the young man’s 
impudence. 

“You ought to know. You are her guardian. You are re- 
sponsible for her ?” 

“ To you ?” 

“ No, not to me ; but to your own conscience : and I think the 
way in which you have entrapped her into making the acquaint- 
ance of this man, of whom she knows nothing, doesn’t look very 
well. I may as well say it when I think it. You ought to have 
known that a girl at her age is ready to be pleased with any nov- 
elty ; and to draw her away from her old friends — I suppose you 
can explain it all to your own satisfaction — but I confess that to 
me — ” 

I let the young man rave. He went on in this fashion for 
some little time, getting momentarily more reckless and vehement 
and absurd in his statements. If Tita had only known what she 
had escaped ! 

“ But, after all,” I say to him, when the waters of this deluge 
of rhetoric had abated, “ what does it matter to you ? We have 
allowed Bell to do just as she pleased ; and perhaps, for all we 
know, she may regard Count Von Rosen with favor, although 
she has never intimated such a thing. But what does it matter 
to you ? You say you are going to get married.” 

“ So I shall !” he said, with an unnecessary amount of emphasis. 

“ Katty Tatham is a very nice girl.” 


THE LAST OF GRASMERE. 


315 


“ 1 should think so ! There’s no coquetry about her, or that 
sort of vanity that is anxious to receive flattery from every sort 
of stranger that is seen in the street — ” 

“ You don’t mean to say that that is the impression you have 
formed of Bell ?” 

And here all his violence and determination broke down. In 
a tone of absolute despair he confessed that he was beside him- 
self, and did not know what to do. What should he do ? Ought 
he to implore Bell to promise to marry him ? Or should he leave 
her to her own ways, and go and seek a solution of his difficul- 
ties in marrying this pretty little girl down in Sussex, who would 
make him a good wife and teach him to forget all the sufferings 
he had gone through ? The wretched young fellow was really in 
a bad way; and there were actually tears in his eyes when he 
said that several times of late he had wished he had the courage 
to drown himself. 

To tell a young man in this state that there is no woman in 
the world worth making such a fuss about, is useless. He rejects 
with scorn the cruel counsels offered by middle-age, and sees in 
them only taunts and insults. Moreover, he accuses middle-age 
of not believing in its own maxims of worldly prudence; and 
sometimes that is the case. 

“ At all events,” I say to him, “ you are unjust to Bell in going 
on in this wild way. She is not a coquette, nor vain, nor heart- 
less ; and if you have anything to complain of, or anything to 
ask from her, why not go direct to herself, instead of indulging 
in frantic suspicions and accusations ?” 

“ But — but I cannot,” he said. “ It drives me mad to see her 
talking to that man. If I were to begin to speak to her of all 
this, I am afraid matters would be made worse.” 

“ Well, take your own course. Neither my wife nor myself 
have anything to do with it. Arrange it among yourselves ; only, 
for goodness’ sake, leave the women a little peace.” 

“ Do you think / mean to trouble them ?” he says, firing up. 
“ You will see.” 

What deep significance lay in these words was not inquired 
into, for we had now to descend from the dog-cart. Far behind 
us we saw that Bell and Count Von Rosen were already walking 
by the side of the phaeton, and Tita talking to them from her 
lofty seat. We waited for them until they came up, and then 


316 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


we proceeded to climb the steep road that leads up and along the 
slopes of the mighty Helvellyn. 

“ Mademoiselle,” said the lieutenant, “ who is it will say that 
there is much rain in your native country ? Or did you alarm us 
so as to make this surprise all the better, yes ?” 

Indeed, there was scarcely a flake of white in all the blue over- 
head ; and, on the other side of the great valley, the masses of 
the Wythburn and Borrodaile Fells showed their various hues 
and tints so that you could almost have fancied them transparent 
clouds. Then the road descended, and we got down to the sol- 
itary shores of Thirlmere, the most Scotch-looking, perhaps, of 
the English lakes. Here the slopes of the hills are more abrupt, 
houses are few and far between, there is an aspect of remoteness 
and a perfect silence reigning over the still water, and the peaks 
of mountains that you see beyond are more jagged and blue than 
the rounded hills about Windermere. From the shores of Thirl- 
mere the road again rises, until, when you come to the crest of 
the height, you find the leaden - colored lake lying sheer below 
you, and only a little stone wall guarding the edge of the pre- 
cipitous slope. We rested the horses here. Bell began to pull 
them handfuls of Dutch clover and grass. The lieutenant talked 
to my lady about the wonders of mountainous countries as they 
appeared to people who had been bred in the plains. Arthur 
looked over the stone wall down into the great valley ; and was 
he thinking, I wonder, whether the safest refuge from all his 
troubles might not be that low-lying and silent gulf of water that 
seemed to be miles beneath him ? 

When we were about to start again, the lieutenant says to 
Arthur, 

“ If you are tired of driving the dog-cart, you might come into 
the phaeton, and I will drive your horse on to Keswick.” 

Who prompted him to make such an offer? Not himself, 
surely. I had formed a tolerable opinion of his good -nature; 
but the impatient and fretful manner in which he had of late 
been talking about Arthur rendered it highly improbable that 
this suggestion was his own. What did Bell’s downcast look 
mean? 

“ Thank you, I prefer the dog-cart,” said Arthur, coldly. 

“ Oh, Arthur,” says Bell, “ you’ve no idea how steep the hill is, 
going down to Keswick, and in a dog-cart too — •” 


THE LAST OP GRASMERE. 


317 


“ I suppose,” says the youug man, “ that I can drive a dog-cart 
down a hill as well as anybody else.” 

“ At all events,” says the lieutenant, with something of a frown, 
“ you need not address mademoiselle as if that she did you harm 
in trying to prevent your breaking your neck.” 

This was getting serious ; so that there was nothing for it but 
to bundle the boy into his dog-cart and order the lieutenant to 
change places with my lady. As for the writer of these pages — 
the emotions he experienced while a mad young fellow was driv- 
ing him in a light and high dog-cart down the unconscionable hill 
that lies above Keswick, he will not attempt to describe. There 
are occurrences in life which it is better to forget ; but if ever he 
was tempted to evoke maledictions on the hot-headedness, and 
bad temper, and general insanity of boys in love — Enough ! 
We got down to Keswick in safety. 

Now we had got among the tourists, and no mistake. The 
hotel was all alive with elderly ladies, who betrayed an astonish- 
ing acquaintance with the names of the mountains, and appor- 
tioned them off for successive days as if they were dishes for 
luncheon and dinner. The landlord undertook to get us beds 
somewhere, if only we would come into his coffee-room, which 
was also a drawing-room, and had a piano in it. He was a portly 
and communicative person, with a certain magnificence of man- 
ner which was impressive. He betrayed quite a paternal inter- 
est in Tita, and calmly and loftily soothed her anxious fears. In- 
deed, his assurances pleased us much, and we began rather to like 
him ; although the lieutenant privately remarked that Clicquot is 
a French word, and ought not, under any circumstances whatever, 
to be pronounced “ Clickot.” 

Then we went down to Derwentwater. It was a warm and 
clear twilight. Between the dark -green lines of the hedges we 
met maidens in white with scarlet opera-cloaks, coming home 
through the narrow lane. Then we got into the open, and found 
the shores of the silver lake, and got into a boat and sailed out 
upon the still waters, so that we could face the wonders of a brill- 
iant sunset. 

But all that glow of red and yellow in the northwest was as 
nothing to the strange gradations of color that appeared along 
the splendid range of mountain peaks beyond the lake. From 
the remote north round to the south-east they stretched like a 


318 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


mighty wall ; and whereas near the gold and crimson of the sun- 
set they were of a warm, roseate, and half-transparent purple, as 
they came along into the darker regions of the twilight they grew 
more and more cold in hue and harsh in outline. Up there in 
the north they had caught the magic colors so that they them- 
selves seemed but light clouds of beautiful vapor ; but as the eye 
followed the line of twisted and mighty shapes, the rose -color 
deepened into purple, the purple grew darker and more dark, and 
greens and blues began to appear over the wooded islands and 
shores of Derwentwater. Finally, away down there in the south 
there was a lowering sky, into which rose wild masses of slate- 
colored mountains, and in the threatening and yet clear darkness 
that reigned among these solitudes we could see but one small 
tuft of white cloud that clung coldly to the gloomy summit of 
Glaramara. 

That strange darkness in the south boded rain ; and, as if in 
anticipation of the wet, the fires of the sunset went down, and a 
gray twilight fell over the land. As we walked home between 
the tall hedges there was a chill dampness in the air; and we 
seemed to know that we had at last bade good-bye to the beauti- 
ful weather that had lighted up for us the blue water and green 
shores of Grasmere. 

[Note by Queen Titania. — “ I begin to think the old lady in Nottingham- 
shire had some excuse for what she said, although she need not have ex- 
pressed herself so rudely. Of course it is impossible to put down all that we 
spoke about on those happy days of our journey ; but when all the ordinary 
talk is carefxdly excluded^ and everything spiteful retained, I cannot wonder 
that a stranger should think that my husband and myself do not lead a very 
pleasant life. It looks very serious when it is put in type ; whereas we have 
been driven into all this nonsense of quarrelling merely to temper the ex- 
cessive sentimentality of those young folks, which is quite amusing in its way. 
Indeed I am afraid that Bell, although she has never said a word to that ef- 
fect to me, is far more deeply pledged than one who thinks he has a great 
insight into such affairs has any notion of. I am sure it was none of my 
doing. If Bell had told me she was engaged to Arthur, nothing could have 
given me greater pleasure. In the mean time, I hope no one will read too 
literally the foregoing pages, and think that in our house we are continually 
treading on lucifer matches and frightening everybody by small explosions. 

I suppose it is literary art that compels such a perversion of the truth ! And 
as for Chapter XXVI. — which has a great deal of nonsense in it about Rich- 
mond — I should think that a very good motto for it would be two lines I once 
saw quoted somewhere — I don’t know who is the author ; but they said, 

“ ‘ The legend is as true, I undertake. 

As Tristram is, or Lancelot of the Lake.'* ”] 


ALONG THE GRETA. 


319 


CHAPTER XXVIL 

ALONG THE GRETA. 

“ You stood before me like a thought, 

A dream remembered in a dream. 

But when those meek eyes first did seem 
To tell me, Love within you wrought — 

0 Greta, dear domestic stream ! 

Has not, since then. Love’s prompture deep, 

Has not Love’s whisper evermore. 

Been ceaseless as thy gentle roar ? 

Sole voice, when other voices sleep. 

Dear under-song in Clamor’s hour.” 

Now, Bell,” says Tita, “ I am going to ask you a serious 
question.” 

“Yes, mamma,” says the girl, dutifully. 

“ Where is the North Country ?” 

Good gracious ! This was a pretty topic to start as we sat idly 
by the shores of Derwentwater, and watched the great white 
clouds move lazily over the mountain peaks beyond. For did it 
not involve some hap-hazard remark of Bell’s, which would instant- 
ly plunge the lieutenant into the history of Strathclyde, so as to 
prove, in defiance of the first principles of logic and the Ten Com- 
mandments, that the girl was altogether right? Bell solved the 
diflSculty in a novel fashion. She merely repeated, in a low and 
careless voice, some lines from the chief favorite of all her songs : 

“ While sadly I roam, I regret my dear home. 

Where lads and young lasses are making the hay. 

The merry bells ring, and the birds sweetly sing. 

And maidens and meadows are pleasant and gay : 

Oh ! the oak and the ash, and the bonny ivy-tree. 

They grow so green in the North Countree !” 

“But where is it?” says Tita. “You are always looking to 
the North and never getting there. Down in Oxford, you were 
all anxiety to get up to Wales. Once in Wales, you hurried us 
on to Westmoreland Now you are in Westmoreland, you are 
still hankering after the North, and I want to know where you 
mean to stop. At Carlisle ? Or Edinburgh ? Or J ohn o’ Groat’s ?” 


320 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

The little woman was becoming quite eloquent in her quiet and 
playful fashion, as she sat there with Bell’s hand in hers. The 
girl looked rather embarrassed, and so, of course, the lieutenant, 
always on the lookout for such a chance, must needs whip up his 
heavy artillery and open fire on Bell’s opponent. 

“ No, madame,” he says ; “ why should you fix down that beau- 
tiful country to any place? Is it not better to have the dream 
always before you? You are too practical — ” 

Too practical ! This from an impertinent young Uhlan to a 
gentle lady whose eyes are full of wistful visions and fancies from 
the morning to the night ! 

“ — It is better that you have it like the El Dorado that the 
old travellers went to seek — always in front of them, but never 
just in sight. Mademoiselle is quite right not to put down her 
beautiful country in the map.” 

“ Count Von Rosen,” says my lady, with some show of petu- 
lance, “ you are always proving Bell to be in the right. You nev- 
er help me ; and you know I never get any assistance from the 
quarter whence it ought to come. Now, if I were to say that I 
belonged to the North Country, you would never think of bring- 
ing all sorts of historical arguments to prove that I did.” 

“ Madame,” says the young man, with great modesty, “ the rea- 
son is that you never need any such arguments, for you are al- 
ways in the right at the first.” 

Here Bell laughs in a very malicious manner ; for was not the 
retort provoked ? My lady asks the girl to watch the creeping of 
a shadow over the summit of Glaramara, as if that had anything 
to do with the history of Deira. 

Well, the women owed us some explanation ; for between them 
they had resolved upon our setting out for Penrith that afternoon. 
All the excursions we had planned in this beautiful neighborhood 
had to be abandoned, and for no ostensible reason whatever. That 
there must be some occult reason, however, for this odd resolve 
was quite certain ; and the lieutenant and myself were left to fit 
such keys to the mystery as we might think proper. 

Was it really, then, this odd longing of Bell’s to go northward, 
or was it not rather a secret consciousness that Arthur would 
cease to accompany us at Carlisle ? The young man had remain- 
ed behind at the hotel that morning. He had important letters 
to write, he said. A telegram had arrived for him while we were 


ALONG THE GRETA. 


321 


at breakfast ; and he had remarked, in a careless way, that it was 
from Mr. Tatham, Katty’s father. Perhaps it was. There is no 
saying what a reckless young fellow may not goad an elderly gen- 
tleman into doing ; but if this message, as we were given to under- 
stand, had really something to do with Arthur’s relations towards 
Katty, it was certainly an odd matter to arrange by telegraph. 

As for the lieutenant, he appeared to treat the whole affair with 
a cool indifference, which was probably assumed. In private con- 
versation he informed me that what Arthur might do in the way 
of marrying Miss Tatham, or anybody else, was of no consequence 
whatever to him. 

“ Mademoiselle will tell me my fate — that is enough,” he said. 
“You think that I am careless — yes? It is not so, except I am 
convinced your friend from Twickenham has nothing to do with 
it. No, he will not marry mademoiselle — that is so clear that 
any one may see it — but he may induce her, frighten her, com- 
plain of her, so that she will not marry me. Good. If it is so, 
I will know who has served me that way.” 

“ You needn’t look as if you meant to eat up the whole famh 
ly,” I say to him. 

“ And more,” he continued, with even greater fierceness, “ it has 
come to be too much, this. He shall not go beyond Carlisle 
with us. I will not allow mademoiselle to be persecuted. You 
will say I have no right ; that it is no business of mine — ” 

“That is precisely what I do say. Leave the girl to manage 
her own affairs. If she wishes Arthur to go, she can do it with 
a word. Do you think there is no method of giving a young 
man his conge than by breaking his neck?” 

“ Oh, you think, then, that mademoiselle wishes him to remain 
near her ?” 

A sudden and cold reserve had fallen over the young fellow’s 
manner. He stood there for a moment as if he calmly expected 
to hear the worst, and was ready to pack up his traps and betake 
himself to the South. 

“ I tell you again,” I say, “ that I think nothing about it, and 
know nothing about it. But as for the decree of Providence 
which ordained that young people in love should become the pest 
and torture of their friends, of all the inscrutable, unjust, perplex- 
ing, and monstrous facts of life, this is about the worst. I will 
take a cigar from you, if you please.” 

21 


322 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ That is all you care for, yes — a cigar,” says the young man, 
peevishly. “If the phaeton were to be smashed to pieces this 
afternoon — a cigar. If mademoiselle were to go and marry this 
wretched fellow — again, a cigar. I do not think that you care 
more for anything around you than the seal which comes up and 
shakes hands with his keeper in the Zoological Gardens.” 

“ Got a light ?” 

“And yet I think it is possible you will get a surprise very 
soon. Yes ! and will not be so indifferent. After Carlisle — ” 

“After Carlisle you come to Gretna Green. But if you pro- 
pose to run away with Bell, don’t take my horses ; they are not 
used to hard work.” 

“ Run away ! You do talk as if mademoiselle were willing to 
run away with anybody. No, it is quite another thing.” 

And here the lieutenant, getting into the morose state — which 
always follows the fierceness of a lover — begins to pull about the 
shawls and pack them up. 

Nevertheless, the eighteen miles between Keswick and Penrith 
proved one of the pleasantest portions of our journey. There 
was not much driving, it is true. We started at mid-day, and, 
having something like five or six hours in which to get over this 
stretch of mountain and moorland road, we spent most of the 
time in walking, even Tita descending from her usual post to 
wander along the hedge-rows and look down into the valley of the 
Greta. As the white road rose gradually from the plains of the 
lakes, taking us along the slopes of the mighty Saddleback, the 
view of the beautiful country behind us grew more extended and 
lovely. The clear silver day showed us the vast array of moun- 
tains in the palest of hues ; and as white clouds fioated over the 
hills and the gleaming surface of Derwentwater, even the shadows 
seemed pale and luminous. There was no mist, but a bewilder- 
ing glare of light, that seemed at once to transpose and blend the 
clouds, the sky, the hills, and the lake. There was plenty of mo- 
tion in the picture, too, for there was a south wind blowing light 
shadows of gray across the silver whiteness; hut there was no 
lowering mass of vapor lying up at the horizon, and all our evil 
anticipations of the previous day remained unfulfilled. 

What a picturesque glen is that over which the great mass of 
Saddleback towers ! We could hear the Greta rushing down the 
chasm through a world of light-green foliage ; and sometimes we 


ALONG THE GRETA. 


323 


got a glimpse of the stream itself — a rich brown, with dashes of 
white foam. Then you cross the river where it is joined by St. 
John’s Beck; and as you slowly climb the sides of Saddleback, 
the Greta becomes the Glenderamackin, and by-and-by you lose 
it altogether as it strikes off to the north. But there are plenty 
of streams about. Each gorge and valley has its beck ; and you 
can hear the splashing of the water where there is nothing visi- 
ble but masses of young trees lying warm and green in the sun- 
shine. 

And as for the wild flowers that grew here in a wonderful lux- 
uriance of form and color, who can describe them? The lieu- 
tenant was growing quite learned in English wild blossoms. He 
could tell the difference between Herb Robert and Ragged Robin, 
was not to be deceived into believing the rock-rose a buttercup, 
and had become profound in the study of the various speedwells. 
But he was a late scholar. Arthur had been under Bell’s tuition 
years before. He knew all the flowers she liked best ; he could 
pick them out at a distance without going through the trouble 
of laboriously comparing them, as our poor lieutenant had to do. 
You should have seen these two young men, with black rage 
in their hearts, engaged in the idyllic pastime of culling pretty 
blossoms for a fair maiden. Bell treated them both with a sim- 
ple indifference that was begotten chiefly by the very deflnite in- 
terest she had in their pursuit. She was really thinking a good 
deal more of her tangled and picturesque bouquet than of the in- 
tentions of the young men in bringing the flowers to her. She 
was speedily to be recalled from her dream. 

At a certain portion of the way we came upon a lot of forget- 
me-nots that were growing amidst the road-side grass, meaning no 
harm. The pale turquoise-blue of the flowers was looking up to 
the silver-white fleece of the sky, just as if there were some com- 
munion between the two that rude human hands had no right to 
break. Arthur made a plunge at them. He pulled up at once 
some half-dozen stalks and came back with them to Bell. 

“ Here,” he said, with a strange sort of smile, “ are some for- 
get-me-nots for you. They are supposed to be typical of wom- 
an’s constancy, are they not? — for they keep fresh about half a 
dozen hours.” 

Bell received the flowers without a trace of surprise or vexation 
in her manner ; and then, with the most admirable self-possession. 


324 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

she turned to the lieutenant, separated one of the flowers from 
the lot, and said, with a great gentleness and calmness, 

“Count Von Rosen, do you care to have one of these? You 
have very pretty songs about the forget-me-not in Germany.” 

I believe that young fellow did not know whether he was dead 
or alive at the moment when the girl addressed him thus. For a 
single second a flash of surprise and bewilderment appeared in his 
face, and then he took the flower from her and said, looking down 
as if he did not wish any of us to see his face, 

“ Mademoiselle, thank you.” 

But almost directly afterward he had recovered himself. With 
an air as if nothing had happened, he pulled out his pocket-book, 
most carefully and tenderly put the flower in it, and closed it 
again. Arthur, with his face as hot as fire, had begun to talk to 
Tita about Threlkeld Hall. 

It was a pretty little scene to be enacted on this bright morn- 
ing, on a grassy way-side in Cumberland, with all the lakes and 
mountains of Westmoreland for a blue and silvery background. 
But, after all, of what importance was it ? A girl may hand her 
companion of the moment a flower without any deadly intent. 
How was any one to tell, indeed, that she had so turned to the 
lieutenant as a retort to Arthur’s not very courteous remark? 
There was no appearance of vexation in her manner. On the con- 
trary, she turned and gave Von Rosen this paltry little forget-me- 
not, and made a remark about German songs, just as she might 
have done at home in Surrey to any of the young fellows who 
come dawdling about the house, wondering why such a pretty girl 
should not betray a preference for somebody. Even as a punish- 
ment for Arthur’s piece of impudence, it might not have any but 
the most transitory significance. Bell is quick to feel any remark 
of the kind ; and it is just possible that at the moment she may 
have been stung into executing this pretty and pastoral deed of 
vengeance. 

But the lieutenant, at all events, was persuaded that something 
of mighty import had just occurred on the picturesque banks of 
this Cumberland stream. He hung about Bell for some time, but 
seemed afraid to address her, and had ceased to offer her flowers. 
He was permitted to bring her a sunshade, however, and that 
pleased him greatly. And thereafter he went up to the horses, 
and walked by their heads, and addressed them in very kindly 


ALONG THE GRETA. 


325 


and soothing language, just as if they had done him some great 
service. 

Arthur came back to us. 

“ It looks rather ridiculous,” he said, abruptly, “ to see the pro- 
cession of this horse and dog-cart following your phaeton. Hadn’t 
I better drive on to Penrith ?” 

“ The look of it does not matter here, surely,” says Bell. “ We 
have only met two persons since we started, and we sha’n’t find 
many people up in this moorland we are coming to.” 

“Oh, as you please,” said the young man, a trifle mollified. 
“ If you don’t mind, of course I don’t.” 

Presently he said, with something of an effort, 

“How long is your journey to last altogether?” 

“ I don’t know,” I say to him. “We shall be in Edinburgh in 
two or three days, and our project of driving thither accomplished. 
But we may spend a week or two in Scotland after that.” 

“Count Von Rosen is very anxious to see something of Scot- 
land,” says Bell, with the air of a person conveying information. 

I knew why Count Von Rosen was so anxious to see something 
of Scotland : he would have welcomed a journey to the North 
Pole if only he was sure that Bell was going there too. But Ar- 
thur said, somewhat sharply, 

“ I am glad I shall escape the duty of dancing attendance on a 
stranger. I suppose you mean to take him to the Tower and to 
Madame Tussaud’s when you return to London ?” 

“ But won’t you come on with us to Edinburgh, Arthur ?” says 
Bell, quite amiably. 

“ No, thank you,” he says ; and then, turning to me, “ How 
much does it cost to send a horse and trap from Carlisle to 
London ?” 

“ From Edinburgh it costs ten pounds five shillings ; so you 
may calculate.” 

“ I suppose I can get a late train to-morrow night for myself ?” 

“ There is one after midnight.” 

He spoke in a gloomy way, that had nevertheless some affec- 
tation of carelessness in it. Bell again expressed her regret that 
he could not accompany us to Edinburgh ; but he did not answer. 

We were now about to get into our respective vehicles, for be- 
fore us lay a long stretch of high moorland road, and we had 
been merely idling the time away during the last mile or two. 


32d 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Won’t you get into the dog-cart for a bit, Bell ?” says Arthur. 

“ Oh yes, if you like,” says Bell, good-naturedly. 

The lieutenant, knowing nothing of this proposal, was rather 
astonished when, after having called to him to stop the horses, we 
came up and Bell was assisted into the dog-cart, Arthur follow- 
ing and taking the reins. The rest of us got into the phaeton ; 
but, of course, Arthur had got the start of us, and went on in front. 

“ How far on is Gretna Green ?” asks my lady, in a low voice. 

The lieutenant scowled, and regarded the two figures in front 
of us in anything but an amiable mood. 

“ You do not care much for her safety to intrust her to that 
stupid boy,” he remarks. 

“ Do you think he will really run away with her ?” says Tita. 

“ Run away !” repeats the lieutenant, with some scorn ; “ if he 
were to try that, or any other foolish thing, do you know what 
you would see ? You would see mademoiselle take the reins from 
him, and go where she pleased in spite of him. Do you think 
that she is controlled by that pitiful fellow ?” 

Whatever control Bell possessed, there was no doubt at all that 
Arthur was taking her away from us at a considerable pace. Af- 
ter that stretch of moorland the road got very hilly ; and no man 
who is driving his own horses likes to run them up steep ascents 
for the mere pleasure of catching a runaway boy and his sweet- 
heart. In the ups and downs of this route we sometimes lost 
sight of Bell and Arthur altogether. The lieutenant was so wroth 
that he dared not speak. Tita grew a trifle anxious, and at last 
she said, 

“Won’t you drive on and overtake these young people? I 
am sure Arthur is forgetting how hilly the road is.” 

“ I don’t. Arthur is driving somebody else’s horse, but I can’t 
afford to ill-treat my own in order to stop him.” 

“ I am sure your horses have not been overworked,” says the 
lieutenant ; and at this moment, as we get to the crest of a hill, 
we find that the two fugitives are on the top of the next incline. 

Hie! HehT 

Two faces turn round. A series of pantomimic gestures now 
conveys my lady’s wishes, and we see Arthur jump down to the 
ground, assist Bell to alight, and then she begins to pull some 
grass for the horse. 

When we, also, get to the top of this hill, lo ! the wonderful 


“ade !” 


32'7 


sight that spreads out before us ! Along the northern horizon 
stands a pale line of mountains, and as we look down into the 
great plain that lies between, the yellow light of the sunset touch- 
es a strange sort of mist, so that you would think there lay a 
broad estuary or a great arm of the sea^ We ourselves are in 
shadow, but all the wide landscape before us is bathed in golden 
fire and smoke ; and up there, ranged along the sky, are the pale 
hills that stand like phantoms rising out of another world. 

Bell comes into the phaeton. We set out again along the hilly 
road, getting comforted presently by the landlord of a way-side 
inn, who says, “Ay, the road goes pretty mooch doon bank a’ t’ 
waay to Penrith, after ye get a mile forrit.” Bell cannot tell us 
whether this is pure Cumbrian, or Cumbrian mixed with Scotch, 
but the lieutenant insists that it does not much matter, for “ for- 
rit ” is very good Frisian. The chances are that we should have 
suffered another sermon on the German origin of our lauguage, 
but that signs of a town became visible. We drove in from the 
country highways in the gathering twilight. There were lights 
in the streets of Penrith, but the place itself seemed to have shut 
up and gone to bed. It was but half-past eight ; yet nearly ev- 
ery shop was shut, and the inn into which we drove had clearly 
got over its day’s labor. If we had asked for dinner at this hour, 
the simple folks would probably have laughed at us ; so we called 
it supper, and a very excellent supper it was. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

“ade !” 

“ Edwin, if right I read my song, 

With slighted passion paced along. 

All in the moony light ; 

’Twas near an old enchanted court, 

Where sportive fairies made resort 
To revel out the night.” 

“ I AM SO sorry you can’t come farther with us than Carlisle,” 
says Queen Titania to Arthur, with a great kindliness for the lad 
shining in her brown eyes. 

“ Duty calls me back — and pleasure, too,” he says, with rather 


328 THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 

a melanclioly smile. “ You will receive a message from me, 1 
expect, shortly after I return. Where will letters find you in 
Scotland ?” 

This was rather a difficult question to answer; but it took us 
away from the dangerous subject of Arthur’s intentions, about 
which the less said at that moment the better. The lieutenant 
professed a great desire to spend two or three weeks in Scotland ; 
and Bell began to sketch out phantom tours, whisking about 
from Loch Lubnaig to Loch Long, cutting round the Mull of 
Cantire, and coming back from Oban to the Crinan in a surpris- 
ing manner. 

“ And, mademoiselle,” says he, “ perhaps to-morrow, when you 
get into Scotland, you will begin to tell me something of the 
Scotch songs, if it does not trouble you. I have read some, yes, 
of Burns’s songs, mostly through Freiligrath’s translations, but 
I have not heard any sung, and I know that you know them all. 
Oh yes, I liked them very much — they are good, hearty songs, 
not at all melancholy ; and an excellent fellow of that country I 
met in the war — he was a correspondent for some newspaper, and 
he was at Metz, but he was as much of a soldier as any man of 
us — he told me there is not any such music as the music of the 
Scotch songs. That is a very bold thing to say, you know, mad- 
emoiselle ; but if you will sing some of them, I will give you my 
frank opinion.” 

“ Very well,” says mademoiselle, with a gracious smile, “ but I 
think I ought to begin to-day, for there is a great deal of ground 
to be got over.” 

“ So much the better,” says he. 

“ But if you young people,” says Queen Tita, “ who are all 
bent on your own pleasure, would let me make a suggestion, I 
think I can put your musical abilities to a better use. I am go- 
ing to give a concert as soon as I get home, for the benefit of 
our Clothing Club; and I want you to undertake. Count Von 
Rosen, to sing for us two or three German songs — Korner’s war- 
songs, for example.” 

“ Oh, with great pleasure, madame, if you will not all laugh at 
my singing.” 

Unhappy wretch — another victim ! But it was a mercy she 
asked him only for a few songs, instead of hinting something 
about a contribution. That was probably to come. 


“ade !” 


329 


“ Bell,” says my lady, “ do you think we ought to charge two- 
pence this time ?” 

On this tremendous financial question Bell declined to express 
an opinion, beyond suggesting that the people, if they could only 
be induced to come, would value the concert all the more. A 
much more practical proposal, however, is placed before this com- 
mittee now assembled in Penrith. At each of these charity-con- 
certs in our school -room, a chamber is set apart for the display 
of various viands and an uncommon quantity of Champagne, de- 
voted to the use of the performers, their friends, and a few spe- 
cial guests. It is suggested that the expense of this entertain- 
ment should not always fall upon one person, there being several 
householders in the neighborhood who were much more able to 
afford such promiscuous banquets. 

“ I am sure,” says my lady, with some emphasis, “ that I know 
several gentlemen who would only be too eager to come forward 
and send those refreshments, if they only knew you were making 
such a fuss about it.” 

“ My dear,” I say, humbly, “ I wish you would speak to them 
on this subject.” 

“ I wouldn’t demean myself so far,” says Tita, “ as to ask for 
wine and biscuits from my neighbors.” 

“ I wish these neighbors wouldn’t drink so much of my Cham- 
pagne.” 

“ But it is a charity ; why should you grumble ?” says the lieu- 
tenant. 

“Why? These abandoned rufl[ians and their wives give five 
shillings to the charity, and come and eat and drink ten shillings’ 
worth of my food and wine. That is why.” 

“ Never mind,” says Bell, with her gentle voice ; “ when Count 
Von Rosen comes to sing we shall have a great audience, and 
there will be a lot of money taken at the door, and we shall be 
able to clear all expenses and pay you, too, for the Champagne.” 

“ At sevenpence-halfpenny a bottle, I suppose ?” 

“ I did not think you got it so cheap,” says Tita, with a pleas- 
ing look of innocence ; and therewith the young folks began to 
laugh, as they generally do when she says anything specially im- 
pertinent. 

Just before starting for Carlisle, we happened to be in the old 
church-yard of Penrith, looking at the pillars which are supposed 


330 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


to mark the grave of a giant of old, and trying to persuade ourselves 
that we saw something like Runic carvings on the stones. There 
came forward to us a strange-looking person, who said, suddenly, 

^‘God bless you !” 

There was no harm in that, at all events ; but presently he be- 
gan to attach himself to Arthur, and insisted on talking to him ; 
while, whenever the young man seemed inclined to resent this in- 
trusion, the mysterious stranger put in another “ God bless you !” 
so as to disarm criticism. We speedily discovered that this per- 
son was a sort of whiskified Old Mortality, who claimed to have 
cut all manner of tombstones standing around ; and to Arthur, 
whom he specially affected, he continually appealed with “Will 
that do, eh? I did that — will that do, eh?” The young man 
was not in a communicative mood, to begin with ; but the per- 
secution he now suffered was like to have driven him wild. In 
vain he moved away ; the other followed him. In vain he pre- 
tended not to listen ; the other did not care. He would proba- 
bly have expressed his feelings warmly, but for the pious ejacu- 
lation which continually came in ; and when a man says “ God 
bless you!” you can’t with decency wish him the reverse. At 
length, out of pure compassion, the lieutenant went over to the 
man, and said, 

“Well, you are a very wicked old gentleman to have been 
drinking at this time in the morning.” 

“ God bless you 1” 

“Thank you. You have given to us your blessing all round: 
now will you kindly go away ?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to see a bit of my cutting, now, eh?” 

“ No, I wouldn’t. I would like to see you go home and get a 
sleep, and get up sober.” 

“God bless you !” 

“The same to you. Good-bye” — and behold! Arthur was 
delivered, and returned, blushing like a girl, to the women, who 
had been rather afraid of this half-tipsy or half-silly person, and 
remained at a distance. 

You may be sure that when we were about to start from Pen- 
rith, the lieutenant did not forget to leave out Bell’s guitar-case. 
And so soon as we were well away from the town, and bowling 
along the level road that leads up to Carlisle, the girl put the 
blue ribbon round her shoulder and began to cast about for a 


‘‘ade !” 


331 


song. Arthur was driving close behind us, occasionally sending 
on the cob so as to exchange a remark or two with my lady. 
The wheels made no great noise, however ; and in the silence ly- 
ing over the shining landscape around us, we heard the clear, full, 
sweet tones of Bell’s voice as well as if she had been sinerine: in a 
room, 

“ Behind yon hills where Lugar flows — ” 

That was the first song that she sung ; and it was well the lieu- 
tenant was not a Scotchman, and had never heard the air as it is 
daily played on the Clyde steamers by wandering fiddlers. 

“ I don’t mean to sing all the songs,” says Bell, presently ; “ I 
shall only give you a verse or so of each of those I know, so that 
you may judge of them. Now, this is a fighting song and with 
that she sung with fine courage, 

“ Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine, Willie ! 

Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine ! 

There ne’er was a coward o’ Kenmure’s blood. 

Nor yet o’ Gordon’s line ! 

Oh, Kenmure’s lads are men, Willie ! 

Oh, Kenmure’s lads are men ! 

Their hearts and swords are metal true. 

And that their foes shall ken !” 

How was it that she always sung these wild, rebellious Jacobite 
songs with so great an accession of spirit ? Never in our South- 
ern home had she seemed to care any thing about them. There, 
the only Scotch songs she used to sing for us were the plaintive 
laments of unhappy lovers, and such -like things; whereas now 
she was all for blood and slaughter, for the gathering of the 
clans, and the general destruction of law and order. I don’t be- 
lieve she knew who Kenmure was. As for the Braes o’ Mar, and 
Callander, and Airlie, she had never seen one of these places. 
And what was this “ kane ” of which she sung so proudly 2 

“ Hark the horn ! 

Up i’ the morn ; 

Bonnie lad, come to the march to-morrow ! 

Down the Glen, 

Grant and his men. 

They shall pay kane to the king the morn ! 

Down by Knockhaspie, 

Down by Gillespie, 

Many a red runt nods the horn ; 

Waken not Galium, 

Rouky, nor Allan — 

They shall pay kane to the king the mom !” 


332 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Why, what a warlike creature you have become, Bell !” says 
Queen Titania. “Ever since you sung those songs of Maria, 
with Count Von Rosen as the old Sergeant, you seem to have for- 
gotten all the pleasant old ballads of melancholy and regret, and 
taken to nothing but fire and sword. Now, if you were to sing 
about Logan Braes, or Lucy’s Flitting, or Annie’s Tryst — ” 

“ I am coming to them,” says Bell, meekly. 

“ No, mademoiselle,” interposes the lieutenant, “ please do not 
sing any more just now. You will sing again, in the afternoon, 
yes? But at present you will harm your voice to sing too 
much.” 

Now she had only sung snatches of three songs. What busi- 
ness had he to interfere, and become her guardian? Yet you 
should have seen how quietly and naturally she laid aside the 
guitar as soon as he had spoken, and how she handed it to him 
to put in the case. My lady looked hard at her gloves, which she 
always does when she is inwardly laughing and determined that 
no smile shall appear on her face. 

It was rather hard upon Arthur that he should be banished 
into that solitary trap ; but he rejoined us when we stopped at 
High Hesket to bait the horses, and have a snack of something 
for lunch. What a picture of desolation is The White Ox of this 
village ! Once upon a time this broad road formed part of the 
great highway leading towards the North ; and here the coaches 
stopped for the last time before driving into Carlisle. It is a 
large hostlery ; but it had such an appearance of loneliness and 
desertion about it that we stopped at the front-door (which was 
shut) to ask whether they could put the horses up. An old lady, 
dressed in black, and with a worn and sad face, appeared. We 
could put the horses up, yes. As for luncheon, we could have 
ham and eggs. The butcher only came to the place twice a 
week; and as no traveller stopped here now, no butcher’s meat 
was kept on the premises. We went into the great stables, and 
found an hostler who looked at us with a wonderful astonish- 
ment shining in his light-blue eyes. Looking at the empty stalls, 
he said he could remember when forty horses were put up there 
every day. It was the railway that had done it. 

We had our ham and eggs in a large and melancholy parlor, 
filled with old-fashioned pictures and ornaments. The elderly 
servant- woman who waited on us told us that a gentleman had 


‘^ADE !” 


333 


stopped at the inn on the Monday night before ; but it turned 
out that he was walking to Carlisle, and that he had got afraid 
of two navvies on the road, and that he therefore had taken a bed 
there. Before him, no one had stopped at the inn since Whitsun- 
tide. It was all because of them railways. 

We hastened away from this doleful and deserted inn, so soon 
as the horses were rested. They had easy work of it for the re- 
mainder of the day’s journey. The old coach -road is here re- 
markably broad, level, and well-made, and we bowled along the 
solitary high-way as many a vehicle had done in by-gone years. 
As we drove into “ morry Carlisle,” the lamps were lighted in the 
twilight, and numbers of people in the streets. For the conven- 
ience of Arthur, we put up at a hotel abutting on the railway-sta- 
tion, and then went off to stable the horses elsewhere. 

It was rather a melancholy dinner we had in a comer of the 
great room. The gloom that overspread Arthur’s face was too 
obvious. In vain the lieutenant talked profoundly to us of the 
apple legend of Tell in its various appearances (he had just been 
cribbing his knowledge from Professor Buchheim’s excellent es- 
say), and said he would go with my lady next morning to see the 
market-place where William of Cloudeslee, who afterward shot 
the apple from off his son’s head, was rescued from justice by 
two of his fellow-outlaws. Tita was far more concerned to see 
Arthur of somewhat better spirits on this the last night of his 
being with us. On our sitting down to dinner, she had said to 
him, with a pretty smile, 

“ King Arthur lives in merry Carlisle, 

And seemly is to see ; 

And there with him Queen Guenever, 

That bride so bright of blee.” 

But was it not an unfortunate quotation, however kindly 
meant? Queen Guenever sat there — as frank and gracious and 
beautiful as a queen or a bride might be — but not with him. 
That affair of the little blue flower on the banks of the Greta was 
still rankling in his mind. 

He bore himself bravely, however. He would not have the 
women remain up to see him away by the 12.45 train. He bade 
good-bye to both of them without wincing, and looked after Bell 
for a moment as she left ; and then he went away into a large 
and gloomy smoking-room, and sat down there in silence. The 


334 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


lieutenant and I went with him. He was not inclined to speak; 
and at length Von Rosen, apparently to break the horrible spell 
of the place, said, 

“ Will they give the horse any corn or water on the journey ?” 

“ I don’t think so,” said the lad, absently, “ but I have tele- 
graphed for a man to be at the station and take the cob into the 
nearest stables.” 

And with that he forced himself to talk of some of his advent- 
ures by the way, while as yet he was driving by himself ; though 
we could see he was thinking of something very different. At 
last the train from the North came in. He shook hands with us 
with a fine indifference ; and we saw him bundle himself up in 
a corner of the carriage, with a cigar in his mouth. There was 
nothing tragic in his going away ; and yet there was not in all 
England a more wretched creature than the young man who thus 
started on his lonely night-journey; and I afterward heard that, 
up in the railway-hotel at this moment, one tender heart was still 
beating a little more quickly at the thought of his going, and two 
wakeful eyes were full of unconscious tears. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

OVER THE BORDER. 

“And here awhile the Muse, 

High hovering o’er the broad cerulean scene, 

Sees Caledonia in romantic view : 

Her airy mountains, from the waving main. 

Invested with a keen, diffusive sky, 

Breathing the soul acute ; her forests huge 
Incult, robust, and tall, by Nature’s hand 
Planted of old ; her azure lakes between 
Poured out expansive, and of watery wealth 
Full ; winding, deep, and green, her fertile vales 
With many a cool translucent brimming flood 
Washed lovely from the Tweed parent stream 
Whose pastoral banks flrst heard my Doric reed. 

With sylvan Gled, thy tributary brook).” 

That next morning in Carlisle, as we walked about the red 
old city that is set amidst beautiful green meadows interlaced 
with streams, there was something about Queen Titania’s man- 
ner that I could not understand. She arrogated to herself a cer- 


OVER THE BORDER. 


335 


tain importance. She treated ordinary topics of talk with dis- 
dain. She had evidently become possessed of a great secret. 
Now, every one knows that the best way to discover a secret is to 
let the owner of it alone ; if it is of great importance, she is sure 
to tell it you, and if it is of no importance, your ignorance of it 
won’t hurt you. 

We were up in that fine old castle, leaning on the parapets of • 
red sandstone and gazing away up to the north, where a line of 
Scotch hills lay on the horizon. That is a pretty landscape that 
lies around Carlisle Castle — the bright and grassy meadows 
through which the Eden winds, the woods and heights of the 
country beyond, the far stretches of sand at the mouth of the 
Solway, and the blue line of hills telling of the wilder regions of 
Scotland. 

In the court-yard below us we can see the lieutenant instruct- 
ing Bell in the art of fortification. My lady looks at them for a 
moment, and says, 

“ Bell is near her North Country at last.” 

There is, at all events, nothing very startling in that disclosure. 
She pauses for a moment or two, and is apparently regarding with 
wistful eyes the brilliant landscape around, across which dashes of 
shadow are slowly moving from the west. Then she adds, 

“ I suppose you are rather puzzled to account for Arthur’s com- 
ing up to see us this last time ?” 

“ I never try to account for the insane actions of young peo- 
ple in love.” 

“ That is your own experience, I suppose ?” she says, daintily. 

Precisely so — of you. But what is this about Arthur ?” 

“ Don’t you really think it looks absurd — his having come to 
join us a second time for no apparent purpose whatever ?” 

“ Proceed.” 

“ Oh,” she says, with some little hauteur ^ “ I am not anxious to 
tell you anything.” 

“ But I am dying to hear. Have you not marked my impa- 
tience ever since we set out this morning ?” 

“ No, I haven’t. But I will tell you all the same, if you prom- 
ise to say not a word of it to the count.” 

“ I ? Say anything to the lieutenant ? The man who would 
betray the confidences of his wife — except when it suited his 
own purpose — But Avhat have you got to say about Arthur ?” 


336 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ Only this : that his coining to see us was not so aimless as it 
might appear. Yesterday he asked Bell definitely if she would 
marry him.” 

She smiles, with an air of pride. She knows she has produced 
a sensation. 

“ Would you like to know where ? In an old inn at High 
•Hesket, where they seem to have been left alone for a minute or 
two. And Bell told him frankly that she could not marry him.” 

Think of it ! In that deserted old inn, with its forsaken cham- 
bers and empty stalls, and occasional visits from a wandering 
butcher, a tragedy had been enacted so quietly that none of us 
had known. If folks were always to transact the most important 
business of their lives in this quiet, undramatic, unobserved way, 
whence would come all the material for our pictures, and plays, 
and books ? These young people, so far as we knew, had never 
struck an attitude, nor uttered an exclamation ; for, now that one 
had time to remember, on our entering into the parlor where Bell 
and Arthur had been left, she was quietly looking out of the win- 
dow, and he came forward to ask how many miles it was to Car- 
lisle. They got into the vehicles outside as if nothing had hap- 
pened. They chatted as usual on the road into Carlisle. Nay, at 
dinner, how did those young hypocrites manage to make believe 
that they were on their old footing, so as to deceive us all ? 

“ My dear,” I say to her, “ we have been robbed of a scene.” 

“ I am glad there was no scene. There is more likely to be a 
scene when Arthur goes back and tells Dr. Ashburton that he 
means to marry Katty Tatham. He is sure to do that ; and you 
know the doctor was very much in favor of Arthur’s marrying 
Bell.” 

“ Well, now, I suppose, all that is wanted for the completion 
of your diabolical project is that Bell should marry that young 
Prussian down here, who will be arrested in a minute or two if 
he does not drop his inquiries.” 

Tita looked up with a stare of well-affected surprise. 

“That is quite another matter, I assure you. You may be 
quite certain that Bell did not refuse Count Von Rosen before 
without some very good reason ; and the mere fact of Arthur’s 
going away does not pledge her a bit. No ; quite the contrary. 
He would be very foolish if he asked her at this moment to be- 
come his wife. She is very sony about Arthur, and so am I; 


OVER THE BORDER. 


337 


but I confess that when I learned his case was hopeless, and that 
I could do nothing to help him, I was greatly relieved. But 
don’t breathe a word of what I have told you to Count Von Ro- 
sen. Bell would never forgive me if it were to reach his ears. 
But oh !” says Queen Tita, almost clasping her hands, while a 
bright light beams over her face, “ I should like to see those two 
married. I am sure they are so fond of each other. Can you 
doubt it, if you look at them for a moment or two — ” 

But they had disappeared from the court-yard below. Almost 
at the same moment that she uttered these words, she instinct- 
ively turned, and lo ! there were Bell and her companion advan- 
cing to join us. The poor little woman blushed dreadfully in 
spite of all her assumption of gracious self-possession; but it 
was apparent that the young folks had not overheard, and no 
harm was done. 

At length we started for Gretna. There might have been some 
obvious jokes going upon this subject, had not some recollection 
of Arthur interfered. Was it because of his departure, also, that 
the lieutenant forbore to press Bell for the Scotch songs that she 
had promised him? Or was it not rather that the brightness 
and freshness of this rare forenoon were in themselves suflBcient 
exhilaration? We drove down by the green meadows, and over 
the Eden bridge. We clambered up the hill opposite, and drove 
past the suburban villas there. We had got so much accustomed 
to sweet perfumes floating to us from the hedge-rows and the 
fields, that we at first did not perceive that certain specially pleas- 
ant odors were the product of some large nurseries close by. 
Then we got out to that “ shedding ” of the roads, which marks 
the junction of the highways coming down from Glasgow and 
Edinburgh ; and here we chose the former, which would take us 
through Gretna and Moffat, leaving us to strike eastward towards 
Edinburgh afterward. 

The old mail-coach road to the North is quite deserted now ; 
but it is a pleasant road for all that, well-made and smooth, with 
tracts of grass along each side, and tall and profuse hedges that 
only partially hide from view the dusky northern landscape with 
its blue line of hills beyond. Mile after mile, however, we did 
not meet a single creature on this deserted highway ; and when 
at length we reached a solitary turnpike, the woman in charge 
thereof regarded us with a look of surprise, as if we were a party 

22 


338 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


of runaways who had blundered into the notion that Gretna 
Green marriages were still possible. 

The lieutenant, who was driving, got talking with the woman 
about these marriages, and the incidents that must have occur- 
red at this very turnpike, and of the stories in the neighborhood 
about that picturesque and gay old time. She, with her eyes 
still looking towards our Bell, as if she suspected that the young 
man had quite an exceptional interest in talking of marriages, 
told us some of her own reminiscences with a great deal of good- 
humor; but it is sad to think that these anecdotes were chiefly 
of quarrels and separations, some of them occurring before the 
happy pair had crossed the flrst bridge on their homeward route. 
Whether these stories were not edifying, or whether a great bank 
of clouds, coming up from the north against the wind, looked 
very ominous, Bell besought her companion to drive on ; and so 
on he went. 

It was a lonely place in which to be caught by a thunder- 
storm. We came to the river Esk, and found its shallow waters 
flowing down a broad and shingly channel, leaving long islands 
of sand between. There was not a house in sight — only the 
marshy meadows, the river-beds, and the low flats of sand stretch- 
ing out to the Solway Frith. Scotland was evidently bent on 
giving us a wet welcome. From the hills in the north those 
black masses of vapor came crowding up, and a strange silence 
fell over the land ; then a faint glimmer of red appeared some- 
where, and a low noise was heard. Presently a long narrow 
streak of forked lightning went darting across the black back- 
ground ; there was a smart roll of thunder ; and then all around 
us the first clustering of heavy rain was heard among the leaves. 
We had the hood put up hastily. Bell and Tita were speedily 
swathed in shawls and water-proofs ; and the lieutenant sent the 
horses on at a good pace, hoping to reach Gretna Green before 
we should be washed into the Solway. Then began the wild 
play of the elements. On all sides of us the bewildering glare of 
steel-blue seemed to flash about, and the horses, terrified by the 
terrific peals of thunder, went plunging on through the torrents 
of rain. 

“ Mademoiselle,” cried the lieutenant, with the water streaming 
over his face and down his great beard, “your Westmoreland 
rain — it was nothing to this.” 


OVER THE BORDER. 


339 


Bell sat mute and patient, with her face down to escape the 
blinding torrents. Perhaps, had we crossed the Border in beau- 
tiful weather, she would have got down from the phaeton, and 
pulled some pretty flower to take away with her as a memento ; 
but now we could see nothing, hear nothing, think of nothing, 
but the crashes of the thunder, the persistent water-fall, and those 
sudden glares that from time to time robbed us of our eyesight 
for several seconds. Some little time before reaching the river 
Sark, which is here the boundary-line between the two countries, 
we passed a small way-side inn ; but we did not think of stopping 
there when Gretna promised to afford us more certain shelter. 
We drove on and over the Sark. We pulled up for a moment at 
the famous toll-house. 

“We are over the Border!” cried Bell, as we drove on again. 
But what of Scotland could she see in this wild storm of rain ? 

Surely no runaway lover was ever more glad to see that small 
church perched up on a hillock among trees than we were when 
we came in sight of Gretna. But where was the inn? There 
were a few cottages by the way-side, and there was one woman 
who kindly came out to look at us. 

No sooner had the lieutenant heard that there was no inn in 
the place, than, without a word — but with an awful look of de- 
termination on his face — he turned the horses clean round, and 
set them off at a gallop down the road to the Sark. 

“Perhaps they can’t take us in at that small place,” said my 
lady. 

“ They must take us in,” said he, between his teeth ; and with 
that we found ourselves in England again. 

He drove us up to the front of the square building. With his 
whip -hand he dashed away the rain from his eyes and mus- 
tache, and called aloud. Lo ! what strange vision was that which 
appeared to us, in this lonely place, in the middle of a storm? 
Through the mist of the rain we beheld the door-way of the inn 
suddenly becoming the frame of a beautiful picture; and the 
picture was that of a fair-haired and graceful young creature of 
eighteen, in a costume of pearly gray touched here and there 
with lines of blue, who regarded us with a winning expression of 
wonder and pity in her large and innocent eyes. Her appearance 
there seemed like a glimmer of sunlight shining through the 
rain ; and a second or two elapsed before the lieutenant could 


340 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


collect himself so far as to ask whether this angel of deliverance 
could not shelter us from the rude violence of the storm. 

“We have no hostler,” says the young lady, in a timid way. 

“Have you any stables?” says the young man. 

“ Yes, we have stables ; shall I show them to you?” 

“ No, no !” he cries, quite vehemently. “ Don’t you come out 
into the rain — not at all ! I will find them out very well myself ; 
but you must take in the ladies here, and get them dry.” 

And when we had consigned Bell and Tita to the care of the 
young lady, who received them with a look of much friendliness 
and concern in her pretty face, we went off and sought out the 
stables. 

“Now, look here, my good friend,” says Von Rosen, “we are 
both wet. The horses have to be groomed — that is very good 
work to dry one person ; and so you go into the house, and 
change your clothes, and I will see after the horses, yes ?” 

“ My young friend, it is no use your being very complaisant to 
me,” I observe to him. “ I don’t mean to intercede with Bell for 
you.” 

“ Would you intercede with that beautiful young lady of the 
inn for me? Well, now, that is a devil of a language, yours. 
How am I to address a girl who is a stranger to me, and to whom 
I wish to be respectful ? I cannot call her mademoiselle, which is 
only an old nickname that mademoiselle used to have in Bonn, 
as you know. You tell me I cannot address a young lady as 
“ Miss ” without mentioning her other name, and I do not know 
it. Yet I cannot address her with nothing, as if she were a ser- 
vant. Tell me now — what does an English gentleman say to a 
young lady whom he may assist at a railway-station abroad, and 
does not know her name ? And what, if he does not catch her 
name when he is introduced in a house? He cannot say mad- 
emoiselle. He cannot say Fraulein. He cannot say miss.” 

“ He says nothing at all.” 

“ But that is rudeness : it is awkward to you not to be able to 
address her.” 

“ Why are you so anxious to know how to talk to this young 
lady ?” 

“ Because I mean to ask her if it is impossible that she can get 
a little corn for the horses.” 

It was tiresome work, that getting the horses out of the wet 


OVER THE BORDER. 


341 


harness, and grooming them without the implements of groom' 
ing. Moreover, we could find nothing but a handful of hay ; and 
it was fortunate that the nose-bags we had with us still contained 
a small allowance of oats and beans. 

What a comfortable little family party, however, we made up 
in the large warm kitchen ! Tita had struck up a great friend- 
ship with the gentle and pretty daughter of the house ; the old 
lady, her mother, was busy in having our wraps and rugs hung up 
to dry before the capacious fire-place ; and the servant-maid had 
begun to cook some chops for us. Bell, too — who might have 
figured as the eldest sister of this flaxen-haired and frank-eyed 
creature, who had appeared to us in the storm — was greatly in- 
terested in her ; and was much pleased to hear her distinctly and 
proudly claim to be Scotch, although it was her misfortune to 
live a short distance on the wrong side of the Border. And with 
that the two girls fell to talking about Scotch and Cumbrian 
words ; but here Bell had a tremendous advantage, and pushed it 
to such an extreme, that her opponent, with a pretty blush and a 
laugh, said that she did not know the English young ladies knew 
so much of Scotch. And when Bell protested that she would 
not be called English, the girl only stared. You see, she had nev- 
er had the benefit of hearing the lieutenant discourse on the his- 
tory of Strathclyde. 

Well, we had our chops and what not in the parlor of the inn ; 
but it was remarkable how soon the lieutenant proposed that we 
should return to the kitchen. He pretended that he was anxious 
to learn Scotch ; and affected a profound surprise that the young 
lady of the inn should not know the meaning of the word “ spur- 
tle.” When we went into the kitchen, however, it was to the 
mamma that he addressed himself chiefly ; and, behold ! she 
speedily revealed to the young soldier that she was the widow of 
one of the Gretna priests. More than that I don’t mean to say. 
Some of you young fellows who may read this might perhaps 
like to know the name and the precise whereabouts of the fair 
wild flower that we found blooming up in these remote solitudes ; 
but neither shall be revealed. If there was any of us who fell 
in love with the sweet and gentle face, it was Queen Tita ; and I 
know not what compacts about photographs may not have been 
made between the two women. 

Meanwhile the lieutenant had established himself as a great 


342 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


favorite with the elderly lady, and by-and-by she left the kitchen, 
and came back with a sheet of paper in her hand, which she 
presented to him. It turned out to be one of the forms of the 
marriage-certificates used by her husband in former days ; and 
for curiosity’s sake I append it below, suppressing the name of 
the priest for obvious reasons. 

KINGDOM OF SCOTLAND. 

COUNTY OP DUMFRIES, PARISH OP GRETNA. 

CTiiese are to <?CertfCg to all whom these presents shall come^ that * * * from 
the parish of * ^ * in the County of * * * and ^ * from the parish of 

^ * in the County o/ * * * being now here present^ and having declar^ 

themselves single persons^ were this day Married after the manner of ths Laws 
of the Church of England^ and agreeable to the Laws of Scotland ; as Witness 
our handsy Allison^ s Bank ToU-h^ey this * * * day of * * * . 

Before * * * | 
ffl®ftnes0e», | 

“ That is a dangerous paper to carry about wi’ ye,” said the old 
woman, with a smile. 

“ Why so ?” inquired the lieutenant. 

“Because ye might be tempted to ask a young leddy to sign 
her name there.” And what should prevent that innocent-eyed 
girl turning just at this moment to look with a pleased smile at 
our Bell? The lieutenant laughed, in an embarrassed way, and 
said the rugs might as well be taken from before the fire, as they 
were quite dry now. 

I think none of us would have been sorry to have stayed the 
night in this homely and comfortable little inn, but we wished to 
get on to Lockerbie, so as to reach Edinburgh in other two days. 
Moreover, the clouds had broken, and there was a pale glimmer 
of sunshine appearing over the dark -green woods and meadows. 
We had the horses put into the phaeton again, and with many a 
friendly word of thanks to the good people who had been so kind 
to us, we started once more to cross the Border. 

“And what do you think of the first Scotch family you have 
seen ?” says Queen Tita to the lieutenant, as we cross the bridge 
again. 

“ Madame,” he says, quite earnestly, “ I did dream for a mo- 


OVER THE BORDER. 


343 


ment I was in Germany again — everything so friendly and home- 
ly, and the young lady not too proud to wait on you, and help 
the servant in the cooking ; and then, when that is over, to talk to 
you with good education, and intelligence, and great simpleness 
and frankness. Oh, that is very good — whether it is Scotch, or 
German, or any other country — the simple ways, and the friend- 
liness, and the absence of all the fashions and the hypocrisy.” 

That young lady was very fashionably dressed, Count Von 
Rosen,” says Tita, with a smile. 

“ That is nothing, madame. Did she not bring in to us our 
dinner, just as the daughter of the house in a German country inn 
would do, as a compliment to you, and not to let the servant 
come in ? Is it debasement, do you think ? No. You do respect 
her for it ; and you yourself, madame, you did speak to her as if 
she were an old friend of yours — and why not, when you find 
people like that honest and good-willing towards you ?” 

What demon of mischief was it that prompted Bell to sing 
that song as we drove through the darkening woods in this damp 
twilight? The lieutenant had just got out her guitar for her 
when he was led into these fierce statements quoted above. And 
Bell, with a great gravity, sung, 

“ Farewell to Glenshalloch, a farewell forever. 

Farewell to my wee cot that stands by the river ; 

The fall is loud-sounding in voices that vary, 

And the echoes surrounding lament with my Mary.” 

This much may be said, that the name of the young lady of 
whom they had been speaking was also Mary ; and the lieuten- 
ant, divining some profound sarcasm in the song, began to laugh 
and protest that it was not because the girl was pretty and gentle 
that he had discovered so much excellence in the customs of 
Scotch households. Then Bell sung once more, as the sun went 
down behind the woods, and we heard the streams murmuring in 
deep valleys by the side of the road, 

“ Hame, hame, hame, 0 hame fain would I be, 

Hame, hame, hame, to my ain countree ; 

There’s an eye that ever weeps, and a fair face will be fain, 

As I pass through Annan water, wi’ my bonny bands again !” 

We drive into the long village of Ecclefechan, and pause for a 
moment or two in front of The Bush Inn to let the horses have a 
draught of water and oatmeal. The lieutenant, who has descend- 


344 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


ed to look after this prescription, now comes out from the inn 
bearing a small tray with some tumblers on it. 

“ Madame,” said he, “ here is Scotch whiskey ; you must all 
drink it, for the good of the country.” 

“And of ourselves,” says one of us, calling attention to the 
chill dampness of the night air. 

My lady pleaded for a bit of sugar, but that was not allowed ; 
and when she had been induced to take about a third of the lieu- 
tenant’s preparation, she put down the glass with an air of hav- 
ing done her duty. As for Bell, she drank pretty nearly half the 
quantity ; and the chances are that if the lieutenant had handed 
her prussic acid, she would have felt herself bound, as a compli- 
ment, to accept it. 

Darker and darker grew the landscape as we drove through 
the thick woods. And when, at last, we got into Lockerbie there 
was scarcely enough light of any sort to show us that the town, 
like most Scotch country towns and villages, was whitewashed. 
In the inn at which we stopped, appropriately named The Blue 
Bell, the lieutenant once more remarked on the exceeding home- 
liness and friendliness of the Scotch. The landlord simply adopt- 
ed us, and gave us advice in a grave, paternal fashion, about what 
we should have for supper. The waiter who attended us took 
quite a friendly interest in our trip ; and said he would himself 
go and see that the horses which had accomplished such a feat 
were being properly looked after. Bell was immensely proud 
that she could understand one or two phrases that were rather 
obscure to the rest of the party ; and the lieutenant still further 
delighted her by declaring that he wished we could travel for 
months through this friendly land, which reminded him of his 
own country. Perhaps the inquisitive reader, having learned 
that we drank Scotch whiskey at The Bush Inn of Ecclefechan, 
would like to know what we drank at The Blue Bell of Locker- 
bie. He may address a letter to Queen Titania on that subject, 
and he will doubtless receive a perfectly frank answer. 

[Note by Queen Titania . — “I do not see why our pretty Bell should be 
made the chief subject of all the foregoing revelations. I will say this, 
that she and myself were convinced that we never saw two men more jeaUrm 
of each other than those two were in that inn near the Border. The old 
lady was quite amused by it ; but I do not think the girl herself noticed it, 
for she is a very innocent and gentle young thing, and has probably had 
no experience of such absurdities. But I would like to ask who first men- 


TWEED SIDE. 


345 


tioned that subject of photographs ; and who proposed to send her a whole 
series of engravings; and who offered to send her a volume of German 
songs. If Arthur had been there, we should have had the laugh all on our 
side ; but now I suppose they will deny that anything of the kind took place 
— with the ordinary candor of gentlemen who are found ow^.”] 


CHAPTER XXX. 

TWEED SIDE. 

“ Ah, happy Lycius ! — for she was a maid 
More beautiful than ever twisted braid. 

Or sighed, or blushed, or on spring-flowered lea 
Spread a green kirtle to the minstrelsy ; 

A virgin purest-lipped, yet in the lore 
Of love deep learned to the red heart’s core.” 

The very first object that we saw, on this the first morning of 
our waking in Scotland, was a small boy of seven or eight, brown- 
faced, yellow-haired, barefooted, who was marching along in the 
sunlight with a bag of school-books on his back about as big as 
himself. 

“ Oh, the brave little fellow !” cries Tita, regarding him from 
the door of the inn with a great softness in her brown eyes. 
“ Don’t you think he will be lord chancellor some day ?” 

The future lord chancellor went steadily on, his small brown 
feet taking no heed of the stones in the white road. 

“I think,” says Tita, suddenly plunging her hand into her 
pocket, “ I think I should like to give him a shilling.” 

“ No, madame,” says one of us to her, sternly ; “ you shall not 
bring into this free land the corrupting infiuences of the South. 
It is enough that you have debased the district around your own 
home. If you offered that young patriot a shilling, he would 
turn again and rend you. But if you offered him a half-penny, 
now, to buy bools — ” 

At this moment, somehow or other. Bell and our lieutenant 
appear together ; and before we know where we are the girl has 
darted across the street in pursuit of the boy. 

“ What are bools ?” asked the lieutenant, gravely. 

“ Objects of interest to the youthful student.” 

Then we see, in the white glare of the sun, a wistful, small, fair 
and sunburned face turned towards that young lady with the 


346 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


voluminous light-brown hair. She is apparently talking to him, 
but in a different tongue from his own, and he looks frightened. 
Then the sunlight glitters on two white coins, and Bell pats him 
kindly on the shoulder; and doubtless the little fellow proceeds 
on his way to school in a sort of wild and wonderful dream, hav- 
ing an awful sense that he has been spoken to by a fair and 
gracious princess. 

“As I live,” says my lady, with a great surprise, “she has 
given him two half-crowns 1” 

Queen Titania looks at me. There is a meaning in her look — 
partly interrogation, partly conviction, and wholly kind and pleas- 
ant. It has dawned upon her that girls who are not blessed with 
abundant pocket-money do not give away five shillings to a pass- 
ing school -boy without some profound emotional cause. Bell 
comes across the way, looking vastly pleased and proud, but some- 
how avoiding our eyes. She would have gone into the inn, but 
that my lady’s majestic presence (you could have fanned her out 
of the way with a butterfiy’s wing !) barred the entrance. 

“ Have you been for a walk this morning. Bell ?” she says, with 
a fine air of indifference. 

“ Yes, madame,” replied our Uhlan — as if he had any business 
to answer for our Bell. 

“ Where did you go ?” 

“ Oh,” says the girl, with some confusion, “ we went — we went 
away from the town a little way — I don’t exactly know — ” 

And with that she escaped into the inn. 

“ Madame,” says the lieutenant, with a great apparent effort, 
while he keeps his eyes looking towards the pavement, and there 
is a brief touch of extra color in his brown face, “ madame — I — I 
am asked — indeed, mademoiselle she was good enough — she is to 
be my wife — and she did ask me if I would tell you — ” 

And somehow he put out his hand — just as a German boy 
shakes hands with you, in a timid fashion, after you have tipped 
him at school — and took Tita’s hand in his, as if to thank her for 
a great gift. And the little woman was so touched, and so might- 
ily pleased, that I thought she would have kissed him before my 
very face, in the open streets of Lockerbie. All this scene, you 
must remember, took place on the door-step of an odd little inn 
in a small Scotch country -town. There were few spectators. 
The sun was shining down on the white fronts of the cottages. 


TWEED SIDE. 


347 


and blinking on the windows. A cart of hay stood opposite to 
us, with the horse slowly munching inside his nose-bag. We our- 
selves were engaged in peacefully waiting for breakfast when the 
astounding news burst upon us. 

“Oh, I am very glad indeed. Count Von Rosen,” says Tita; 
and, sure enough, there was gladness written all over her face and 
in her eyes. And then in a minute she had sneaked away from 
us, and I knew she had gone away to seek Bell, and stroke her 
hair, and put her arms round her neck, and say, “ Oh, my dear,” 
with a little sob of delight. 

Well, I turn to the lieutenant. Young men, when they have 
been accepted, wear a most annoying air of self-satisfaction. 

“Touching those settlements,” I say to him; “have you any 
remark to make ?” 

The young man begins to laugh. 

“ It is no laughing matter. I am Bell’s guardian. You have 
not got my consent yet.” 

“We can do without it — it is not an opera,” he says, with 
some more of that insolent coolness. “ But you would be pleased 
to prevent the marriage, yes? For I have seen it often — that 
you are more jealous of mademoiselle than of any one — and it is 
a wonder to me that you did not interfere before. But as for 
madame, now — yes, she is my very good friend, and has helped 
me very much.” 

Such is the gratitude of those conceited young fellows, and 
their penetration, too ! If he had but known that only a few 
days before Tita had taken a solemn vow to help Arthur by ev- 
ery means in her power, so as to atone for any injustice she 
might have done him ! But all at once he says, with quite a 
burst of eloquence (for him), 

“ My dear friend, how am I to thank you for all this ? I did 
not know, when I proposed to come to England, that this holiday 
tour would bring me so much happiness. It does appear to me 
I am grown very rich — so rich I should like to give something 
to everybody this morning, and make every one happy as my- 
self—” 

“Just as Bell gave the boy five shillings. All right. When 
you get to Edinburgh you can buy Tita a Scotch collie : she is 
determined to have a collie, because Mrs. Quinet got a prize for 
one at the Crystal Palace. Come in to breakfast.” 


348 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


Bell was sitting there with her face in shadow, and Tita, laugh- 
ing in a very affectionate way, standing beside her with her hands 
on the girl’s shoulder. Bell did not look up ; nothing was said. 
A very friendly waiter put breakfast on the table. The landlord 
dropped in to bid us good-morning, and see that we were com^ 
fortable. Even the hostler, the lieutenant told us afterward, of 
this Scotch inn had conversed with him in a shrewd, homely, and 
sensible fashion, treating him as a young man who would natu- 
rally like to have the advice of his elders. 

The young people were vastly delighted with the homely ways 
of this Scotch inn ; and began to indulge in vague theories about 
parochial education, independence of character, and the hardihood 
of Northern races — all tending to the honor and glory of Scot- 
land. You would have thought, to hear them go on in this fash- 
ion, that all the good of the world, and all its beauty and kindli- 
ness, were concentrated in the Scotch town of Lockerbie, and that 
in Lockerbie no place was so much the pet of fortune as The 
Blue Bell inn. 

“ And to think,” says Bell, with a gentle regret, “ that to-mor- 
row is the last day of our driving.” 

“ But not the last of our holiday, mademoiselle,” says the lieu- 
tenant. “ Is it necessary that any of us goes back to England 
for a week or two, or a month, or two months ?” 

Of course, the pair of them would have liked very well to start 
off on another month’s excursion, just as this one was finished. 
But parents and guardians have their duties. Very soon they 
would be in a position to control their own actions ; and then 
they would be welcome to start for Kamtchatka. 

All that could be said in praise of Scotland had been said in 
the inn ; and now, as Castor and Pollux took us away from Lock- 
erbie into the hillier regions of Dumfriesshire, our young people 
were wholly at a loss for words to describe their delight. It was 
a glorious day, to begin with : a light breeze tempering the hot 
sunlight, and blowing about the perfume of sweetbrier from the 
fronts of the stone cottages, and bringing us warm and resinous 
odors from the woods of larch and spruce. We crossed deep 
glens, along the bottom of which ran clear brown streams over 
beds of pebbles. The warm light fell on the sides of those rocky 
clefts, and lighted up the masses of young rowan-trees and the 
luxuriant ferns along the moist banks. There was a richly culti- 


TWEED SIDE. 


349 


vated and undulating country lying all around; but few houses, 
and those chiefly farm-houses. Far beyond, the rounded hills of 
Moffat rose, soft and blue, into the white sky. Then, in the still- 
ness of the bright day, we came upon a way-side school ; and as 
it happened to be dinner-time, we stopped to see the stream of 
little ones come out. It was a pretty sight, under the shadow of 
the trees, to see that troop of children come into the country road 
— most of them being girls, in extremely white pinafores, and 
nearly all of them, boys and girls, being yellow-haired, clear-eyed, 
healthy children, who kept very silent and stared shyly at the 
horses and the phaeton. All the younger ones had bare feet, 
stained with the sun, and their yellow hair, which looked almost 
white by the side of their berry -brown cheeks, was free from 
cap or bonnet. They did not say, “ Chuck us a ’apenny.” They 
did not raise a cheer as we drove off. They stood by the side of 
the road, close by the hawthorn hedge, looking timidly after us ; 
and the last that we saw of them was that they had got into the 
middle of the path and were slowly going off home — a small, 
bright, and various-colored group under the soft green twilight of 
an avenue of trees. 

As we drove on through the clear, warm day, careless and con^ 
tent, the two women had all the talking to themselves ; and a 
strange use they made of their opportunities. If the guardian 
angels of those two creatures happen to have any sense of hu- 
mor, they must have laughed as they looked down and overheard. 
You may remember that when it was flrst proposed to take this 
Prussian lieutenant with us on our summer tour, both Bell and 
ray lady professed the most deadly hatred of the German nation, 
and were nearly weeping tears over the desolate condition of 
France. That was about six months before. Now, thirty mill- 
ions of people, either in the South or North of Europe, don’t 
change their collective character — if such a thing exists — within 
the space of six months ; but on this bright morning you would 
have fancied that the women were vying with each other to 
prove that all the domestic virtues, and all the science and learn- 
ing of civilization, and all the arts that beautify life, were the ex- 
clusive property of the Teutons. My lady was a later convert — 
had she not made merry only the other day over Bell’s naive con- 
fession that she thought the German nation as good as the French 
nation ? — but now that she had gone over to the enemy, she alto- 


360 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


gether distanced Bell in the production of theories, facts, quota- 
tions, and downright personal opinion. She had lived a little 
longer, you see, and knew more ; and perhaps she had a trifle 
more audacity in suppressing awkward facts. At all events, the 
lieutenant was partly abashed and partly amused by her warm 
advocacy of German character, literature, music, and a thousand 
other things ; and by her endeavors to prove — out of the histor- 
ical lessons she had taught her two boys — that there had always 
prevailed in this country a strong antipathy to the French and all 
their ways. 

“Their language, too,” I remark, to keep the ball rolling. 
“ Observe the difference between the polished, fluent, and delicate 
German, and the barbaric dissonance and jumble of the French! 
How elegant the one, how harsh the other ! If you were to take 
Bossuet, now — ” 

“ It is not fair,” says Bell. “ We were talking quite seriously, 
and you come in to make a jest of it.” 

“I don’t. Are you aware that, at a lecture Coleridge gave in 
the Royal Institution in 1808, he solemnly thanked his Maker 
that he did not know a word of that frightful jargon^ the French 
language V'' 

The women were much impressed. They would not have 
dared, themselves, to say a word against the French language; 
nevertheless, Coleridge was a person of authority. Bell looked 
as if she would like to have some further opinions of this sort ; 
but Mr. Freeman had not at that time uttered his epigram about 
the general resemblance of a Norman farmer to “ a man of York- 
shire or Lincolnshire who has somehow picked up a bad habit of 
talking French,” nor that other about a Dane who, “in his so- 
journ in Gaul had put on a slight French varnish, and who came 
into England to be washed clean again.” 

“ Now,” I say to Bell, “ if you had only civilly asked me to 
join in the argument, I could have given you all sorts of testimo- 
ny to the worth of the Germans and the despicable nature of the 
French.” 

“ Yes, to make the whole thing absurd,” says Bell, somewhat 
hurt. “ I don’t think you believe any thing seriously.” 

“ Not in national characteristics even ? If not in them, what 
are we to believe ? But I will help you all the same. Bell. Now, 
did you ever hear of a sonnet in which Wordsworth, after recall- 


TWEED SIDE. 


351 


ing some of the great names of the Commonwealth time, goes on 
to say, 

“ ‘ France, ’tis strange, 

Hath brought forth no such souls as we had then. 

Perpetual emptiness ! unceasing change ! 

No single volume paramount, no code. 

No master spirit, no determined road ; 

But equally a want of books and men !’ 

Does that please you?” 

“Yes,” says Bell, contentedly. 

“ Well, did you ever read a poem called ‘Hands all Round?’ 

“ No.” 

“ You never heard of a writer in the Examiner called ‘ Merlin,’ 
whom people to this day maintain was the Poet-laureate of Eng- 
land ?” 

“ No.” 

“ Well, listen : 

“ ‘ What health to France, if France be she 
Whom martial progress only charms ? 

Yet tell her — better to be free 

Than vanquish all the world in arms. 

Her frantic city’s flashing heats 
But fire, to blast, the hopes of men. 

Why change the titles of your streets ? 

You fools, you’ll want them all again. 

Hands all round ! 

God the tyrant’s cause confound ! 

To France, the wiser France, we drink, my friends. 

And the great name of England, round and round !’ 

At that time. Miss Bell, thousands of people in this country were 
disquieted about the possible projects of the new French Gov- 
ernment; and as it was considered that the Second Napoleon 
would seek to establish his power by the fame of foreign con- 
quest — ” 

“ This is quite a historical lecture,” says Queen Tita, in an un- 
dertone. 

“ — and as the Napoleonic legend included the humiliation of 
England, many thoughtful men began to cast about for a possible 
ally with whom we could take the field. To which country did 
they turn, do you think ?” 

“ To Germany, of course,” says Bell, in the most natural way 
in the world. 

“Listen again: 


852 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


“ ‘ Gigantic daughter of the West, 

We drink to thee across the flood. 

We know thee, and we love thee best. 

For art thou not of British blood ? 

Should war’s mad blast again be blown, 

Permit not thou the tyrant powers 
To flght thy mother here alone. 

But let thy broadsides roar with ours. 

Hands all round ! 

God the tyrant’s cause confound ! 

To our dear kinsmen of the West, my friends, 

And the great name of England, round and round !’ ” 

Bell seemed a little disappointed that America and not Ger- 
many had been singled out by the poet; but of course nations 
don’t choose allies merely to please a girl who happens to have 
engaged herself to marry a Prussian oflBcer. 

“ Now,” I say to her, “ you see what aid I might have given 
you, if you only had asked me prettily. But suppose we give 
Germany a turn now; suppose we search about for all the um 
pleasant things — ” 

“ Oh no, please don’t,” says Bell, submissively. 

This piece of unfairness was so obvious and extreme that Von 
Rosen himself was at last goaded into taking up the cause of 
France, and even went the length of suggesting that peradvent- 
ure ten righteous men might be found within the city of Paris. 
’Twas a notable concession. I had begun to despair of France. 
But no sooner had the lieutenant turned the tide in her favor 
than my lady and Bell seemed graciously disposed to be gener- 
ous. Chateaubriand was not Goethe, but he was a pleasing writer. 
Alfred de Musset was not Heine, but he had the merit of re- 
sembling him. If Auber did not exactly reach the position of a 
Beethoven or a Mozart, one had listened to worse operas than the 
“Crown Diamonds.” The women did not know much about 
philosophy ; but while they were sure that all the learning and 
wisdom of the world had come from Germany, they allowed that 
France had produced a few epigrams. In this amiable frame of 
mind we drove along the white road on this summer day ; and 
after having passed the gTeat gap in the Moffat Hills which leads 
through to St. Mary’s Loch and all the wonders of the Ettrick 
and the Yarrow, we drove into Moffat itself, and found ourselves 
in a large hotel fronting a great sunlit and empty square. 

Our young people had really conducted themselves very dis- 


TWEED SIDE. 


353 


erectly. All that forenoon you would scarcely have imagined 
that they had just made a solemn promise to marry each other ; 
hut, then, they had been pretty much occupied with ancient and 
modern history. Now, as we entered a room in the hotel, the 
lieutenant espied a number of flowers in a big glass vase; and 
without any pretence of concealment whatever, he walked up to 
it, selected a white rose, and brought it back to Bell. 

“ Mademoiselle,” he said, in a low voice ; but who could help 
hearing him ? “ you did give to me, the other day, a forget-me- 
not. Will you take this rose ?” 

Mademoiselle looked rather shy for a moment ; but she took 
the rose, and with an affectation of unconcern which did not 
conceal an extra touch of color in her pretty face, she said, “ Oh, 
thank you very much,” and proceeded to put it into the bosom 
of her dress. 

“ Madame,” said the lieutenant, just as if nothing had occurred, 
“ I suppose Moffat is a sort of Scotch Baden-Baden ?” 

Madame, in turn, smiled sedately, and looked out of the win- 
dow, and said that she thought it was. 

When we went out for a lounge after luncheon, we discovered 
that if Moffat is to be likened to Baden-Baden, it forms an ex- 
ceedingly Scotch and respectable Baden-Baden. The building 
in which the mineral waters are drunk* looks somewhat like an 
educational institution, painted white, and with prim white iron 
railings. Inside, instead of that splendid saloon of the Conver- 
sationshaus in which, amidst a glare of gas, various characters, 
doubtful and otherwise, walk up and down and chat while their 
friends are losing five-franc pieces and napoleons in the adjoining 
chambers, we found a long and sober-looking reading-room. Mof- 
fat itself is a white, clean, wide-streeted place, and the hills around 
it are smooth and green ; but it is very far removed from Baden- 
Baden. It is a good deal more proper, and a great deal more 
dull. Perhaps we did not visit it in the height of the season, if 


* “ Bien entendu, d’ailleurs, que le but du voyage 
Est de prendre les eaux ; e’est un compte regl6. 
D’eaux, je n’en ai point vu lorsque j’y suis all6 
Mais qu’on ou puisse voir, je n’en mets rien en gage ; 
Je crois meme, en honneur, que I’eau de voisinage 
A, quand on Texamine, un petit godt sale.” 

A. De Musset. 


23 


354 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


it has got a season ; but we were, at all events, not very sorry to 
get away from it again, and out into the hilly country beyond. 

That was a pretty drive up through Annandale. As you leave 
Moffat the road gradually ascends into the region of the hills ; 
and down below you lies a great valley, with the river Annan 
running through it, and the town of Moffat itself getting smaller 
in the distance. You catch a glimmer of the blue peaks of West- 
moreland lying far away in the south, half hid amidst silver haze. 
The hills around you increase in size, and yet you would not rec- 
ognize the bulk of the great round slopes but for those minute 
dots that you can make out to be sheep, and for an occasional 
wasp-like creature that you suppose to be a horse. The evening 
draws on. The yellow light on the slopes of green becomes 
warmer. You arrive at a great circular chasm which is called by 
the country-folks the Devil’s Beef-tub — a mighty hollow, the 
western sides of which are steeped in a soft purple shadow, while 
the eastern slopes burn yellow in the sunlight. Far away down 
in that misty purple you can see tints of gray, and these are mass- 
es of slate uncovered by grass. The descent seems too abrupt for 
cattle, and yet there are faint specks which may be sheep. There 
is no house, not even a farm-house, near ; and all traces of Moffat 
and its neighborhood have long been left out of sight. 

But what is the solitude of this place to that of the wild and 
lofty region you enter when you reach the summits of the hills ? 
Far away on every side of you stretch miles of lonely moorland, 
with the shoulders of more distant hills reaching down in endless 
succession into the western sky. There is no sign of life in this 
wild place. The stony road over which you drive was once a 
mail-coach road; now it is overgrown with grass. A few old 
stakes, rotten and tumbling, show where it was necessary at one 
time to place a protection against the sudden descents on the side 
of the road ; but now the road itself seems lapsing back into 
moorland. It is up in this wilderness of heather and wet moss 
that the Tweed takes its rise ; but we could hear no trickling 
of any stream to break the profound and melancholy stillness. 
There was not even a shepherd’s hut visible ; and we drove on in 
silence, scarcely daring to break the charm of the utter loneliness 
of the place. 

The road twists round to the right. Before us a long valley is 
seen, and we guess that it receives the waters of the Tweed. Ab 


OUR EPILOGUE. 


355 


most immediately afterward we come upon a tiny rivulet some 
two feet in width — either the young Tweed itself or one of its 
various sources ; and as we drive on in the gathering twilight 
towards the valley, it seems as though we were accompanied by 
innumerable streamlets trickling down to the river. The fire of 
the sunset goes out in the west, but over there in the clear green- 
white of the east a range of hills still glows with a strange roseate 
purple. We hear the low murmuring of the Tweed in the silence 
of the valley. We get down among the lower-lying hills, and the 
neighborhood of the river seems to have drawn to it thousands 
of wild creatures. There are plover calling and whirling over the 
marshy levels. There are blackcock and gray hen dusting them- 
selves in the road before us, and waiting until we are quite near 
to them before they wing their straight fiight up to the heaths 
above. Far over us, in the clear green of the sky, a brace of wild 
duck go swiftly past. A weasel glides out and over the gray 
stones by the road -side; and farther along the bank there are 
young rabbits watching, and trotting and watching again, as the 
phaeton gets nearer to them. And then, as the deep rose-purple 
of the eastern hills fades away, and all the dark-green valley of 
the Tweed lies under the cold silver-gray of the twilight, we reach 
a small and solitary inn, and are almost surprised to hear once 
more the sound of a human voice. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

OUR EPILOGUE. 

“ Nor much it grieves 

To die, when summer dies on the cold sward. 

Why, I have been a butterfly, a lord 
Of flowers, garlands, love-knots, silly posies, 

Groves, meadows, melodies, and arbor-roses ; 

My kingdom’s at its death.” 

When you have dined on ham and eggs and whiskey the even- 
ing before, to breakfast on ham and eggs and tea is a great relief 
the morning after. We gathered round the table in this remote 
little inn with much thankfulness of heart. We were to have a 
glorious day for the close of our journey. All round The Crook 
Inn there was a glare of sunshine on the rowan-trees. The soft 


356 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


grays and greens of the hills on the other side of the river rose 
into a pale-blue sky, where there was not a single cloud. And 
then, to complete the picture of the moorland hostlery, appeared 
a keeper who had just set free from their kennel a lot of hand- 
some setters, and the dogs were flying hither and thither along 
the white road and over the grass and weeds by the tall hedges. 

“ Do you know,” said Bell, “ that this used to be a posting- 
house that had thirty horses in its own stables ; and now it is 
only used by a few sportsmen who come here for the Ashing and, 
later on, for the shooting ?” 

So she, too, had taken to getting up in the morning and acquir- 
ing information. 

“ Yes,” she said, “ but it has been taken by a new landlord, 
who hopes to have gentlemen come and lodge here by the month 
in the autumn.” 

She was beginning to show a great interest in the affairs of 
strangers : hitherto she had cared for none of these things, except 
where one of our Surrey pensioners was concerned. 

“And the hostler is such an intelligent and independent old 
man, who lets you know that he understands horses a great deal 
better than you.” 

I could see that my lady was mentally tracking out Bell’s wan- 
derings of the morning. Under whose tuition had she discov- 
ered all that about the landlord? Under whose guidance had she 
found herself talking to an hostler in the neighborhood of the 
stables? But she had not devoted the whole morning to such 
inquiries. We remarked that the lieutenant wore in his button- 
hole a small bouquet of tiny wild flowers, the faint colors of 
which were most skilfully combined and shown up by a bit of 
fern placed behind them. You may be sure that it was not the 
clumsy fingers of the young Uhlan that had achieved that work 
of art. 

“ And now, my dear children,” I observe, from the head of the 
table, “ we have arrived at the last stage of our travels. We 
have done nothing that we ought to have done ; we have done 
everything that we ought not to have done. As one of you has 
already pointed out, we have never visited a museum, or explored 
a ruin, or sought out an historical scene. Our very course has 
been inconsistent, abnormal, unreasonable. Indeed, if one were 
to imagine a sheet of lightning getting tipsy and wandering over 


OUR EPILOGUE. 


357 


the country in a helpless fashion for several days, that might de- 
scribe our route. We have had no adventures that could be 
called adventures, no experiences to turn our hair gray in a dozen 
hours ; only a general sense of light, and fresh air, and motion, 
and laughter. We have seen green fields, and blue skies, and sil- 
ver lakes; we have seen bright mornings and breezy days, and 
spent comfortable evenings in comfortable inns. Shall we not 
look back upon this month in our lives, and call it the month of 
sunshine and green leaves ?” 

Here a tapping all around the table greeted the orator, and 
somewhat disconcerted him ; but presently he proceeded : 

“ If, at times, one member of our party, in the reckless exercise 
of a gift of repartee which Heaven, for some inscrutable reason, 
has granted her, has put a needle or two into our couch of eider- 
down — ” 

“ I pronounce this meeting dissolved,” says Bell quickly, and 
with a resolute air. 

“ Yes, mademoiselle,” put in the lieutenant. “ It is dissolved. 
But as it breaks up — it is a solemn occasion — might we not drink 
one glass of Champagne — ” 

Here a shout of laughter overwhelmed the young man. Cham- 
pagne up in these wild moorlands of Peebles, where the youthful 
Tweed and its tributaries wander through an absolute solitude ! 
The motion was negatived without a division ; and then we went 
out to look after Castor and Pollux. 

All that forenoon we were chased by a cloud as we drove down 
the valley of the Tweed. Around us there was abundant sunlight 
— falling on the gray bed of the river, the brown water, the green 
banks and hills beyond ; but down in the south-west was a great 
mass of cloud which came slowly advancing with its gloom. 
Here we were still in the brightness of the yellow glare, with a 
cool breeze stirring the rowan-trees and the tall weeds by the side 
of the river. Then, as we got farther down the valley, the bed of 
the stream grew broader. There were great banks of gray peb- 
bles visible, and the brown water running in shallow channels be- 
tween where the stones fretted its surface, and caused a murmur 
that seemed to fill the silence of the smooth hills around. Here 
and there a solitary fisherman was visible, standing in the river 
and persistently whipping the stream with his supple fiy-rod. A 
few cottages began to appear, at considerable intervals. But we 


368 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


came to no village ; and as for an inn, we never expected to see 
one. We drove leisurely along the now level road, through a 
country rich with waving fields of grain, and dotted here and 
there with comfortable-looking farm-houses. 

Then Bell sung to us : 

“ Upon a time I chanced 
To walk along the green, 

Where pretty lasses danced 
In strife, to choose a queen ; 

Some homely dressed, some handsome, 

Some pretty and some gay. 

But who excelled in dancing 
Must be the Queen of May.” 

But when she had sung the last verse — 

“ Then all the rest in sorrow. 

And she in sweet content. 

Gave over till the morrow. 

And homeward straight they went. 

But she, of all the rest. 

Was hindered by the way. 

For every youth that met her 
Must kiss the Queen of May ” — 

my lady said it was very pretty, only why did Bell sing an Eng- 
lish song after she had been trying to persuade us that she held 
the English and their music in contempt ? 

“ Now, did I ever say anything like that?” said Bell, turning, 
in an injured way, to the lieutenant. 

“ No,” says he, boldly. If she had asked him to swear that 
two and two were seven, he would have said that the man was a 
paralyzed imbecile who did not know it already. 

“ But I will sing you a Scotch song, if you please,” says Bell, 
shrewdly suspecting that that was the object of Tita’s protest. 

“ Will ye gang to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay ?” 

— this was what Bell sung now : 

“ Will ye gang to the Hielands wi’ me ? 

Will ye gang to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay, 

My pride and my darling to be ?” 

“ To gang to the Hielands wi’ you, sir, 

I dinna ken how that may be ; 

For I ken nae the land that you live in, 

Nor ken I the lad I’m gaun wi’.” 


OUR EPILOGUE. 


359 


And so fortli to the end, where the young lady “ kilts up her 
coats o’ green satin,” and is off with Lord Ronald Macdonald. 
Probably the lieutenant meant only to show that he knew the 
meaning of the word “ Hielands but when he said, 

“And we do go to the Highlands, yes?” the girl was greatly 
taken aback. It seemed as though he were coolly placing him- 
self and her in the position of the hero and heroine of the song ; 
and my lady smiled, and Bell got confused, and the lieutenant, 
not knowing what was the matter, stared, and then turned to me 
to repeat the question. By this time Bell had recovered herself, 
and she answered, hastily, 

“ Oh yes, we shall go to the Highlands, shall we not ? — to the 
Trossachs, and Ben Nevis, and Auchenasheen — ” 

“ And Orkney too. Bell ? Do you know the wild proposal you 
are making in laying out plans for another month’s holiday ?” 

“ And why not ?” says the lieutenant. “ It is only a pretence, 
this talk of much work. You shall send the horses and phaeton 
back by the rail from Edinburgh ; then you are free to go away 
anywhere for another month. Is it not so, madame ?” 

Madame is silent. She knows that she has only to say “ yes ” 
to have the thing settled ; but thoughts of home and the cares of 
that pauperized parish crowd in upon her mind. 

“ I suppose we shall get letters from the boys to-night, when 
we reach Edinburgh. There will be letters from home, too, say- 
ing whether everything is right down there. There may be no 
reason for going back at once.” 

She was evidently yielding. Was it that she wanted to give 
those young people the chance of a summer ramble which they 
would remember for the rest of their life ? The prospect lent a 
kindly look to her face ; and, indeed, the whole of them looked 
so exceedingly happy, and so dangerously forgetful of the graver 
aspects of life, that it was thought desirable to ask them whether 
there might not be a message from Arthur among the batch of 
letters awaiting us in Edinburgh. 

’Twas a random stroke, but it struck home. The conscience 
of these careless people was touched. They knew in their inmost 
hearts that they had wholly forgotten that unhappy young man 
whom they had sent back to Twickenham with all his faith in 
human nature destroyed forever. But was it pity for him that 
now filled their faces, or a vague dread that Arthur might, in the 


360 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


last extremity of his madness, have gone up to Edinburgh by rail 
to meet us there ? 

“ He promised us an important communication,” says my lady. 

She would not say that it was understood to refer to his mar- 
riage; but that was the impression he had left. Very probably, 
too, she was haunted by speculations as to how such a marriage, 
if it took place, would turn out ; and whether little Katty Tatham 
would be able to reconcile Arthur to his lot, and convince him that 
he was very fortunate in not having married that faithless Bell. 

“Madame,” said the lieutenant, suddenly — he did not care to 
have that pitiful fellow Arthur receive so much consideration — 
“ this is a very sober country. Shall we never come to an inn ? 
The Champagne I spoke of, that has gone away as a dream ; but 
on this warm day a little lemonade and a little whiskey — that 
would do to drink the health of our last drive, yes ! But there 
is no inn — nothing but those fields of corn, and farm-houses.” 

At last, however, we came to a village. The lieutenant pro- 
posed to pull up and give Castor and Pollux a mouthful of water 
and oatmeal : it was always Castor and Pollux that were sup- 
posed to be thirsty. But what was his amazement to find that 
in the village there was no inn of any kind ! 

“ I wish there were some villages of this sort down in our part 
of the country,” says Queen Tita, with a sigh. “ With us, they 
build the public-house first, and that draws other houses.” 

And with that Bell began to relate to the lieutenant how my 
lady was once vexed beyond measure to find — just as she was 
coming out of an obscure public -house on a Sunday morning, 
after having compelled the tipsy and quarrelling landlord thereof 
to beg forgiveness of his wife — a whole group of visitors at the 
squire’s house coming along the road from church, and staring 
at her as if she had gone into the public for refreshment. It was 
a vastly interesting story, perhaps; but the sulky young man 
paid little heed to it. He wore an injured look. He kept look- 
ing far ahead along the road ; and, although it was a very pretty 
road, he did not seem satisfied. At length he pulled the horses 
up, and hailed a farmer who, in his white shirt-sleeves, was work- 
ing in a field close by, along with a domestic group of fellow- 
laborers. 

“ I say,” called out the lieutenant, “ isn’t there an inn on this 
road 2” 


OUR EPILOGUE. 


361 


“Ay, that there is,” said the man, with a grim smile, as he 
rose up and drew his sleeve across his forehead. 

“ How far yet ?” 

“ Twa miles. It’s a temperance hoose !” 

“A temperance hoose,” said the lieutenant to Bell; “what is 
a temperance hoose ?” 

“ They don’t sell any spirits there, or beer, or wine.” 

“And is that what is called temperance?” said the lieutenant, 
in a peevish way ; and then he called out again, “ Look here, my 
good friend, when do we come to a proper kind of inn ?” 

“ There is an inn at Ledburn — that’s eight miles on.” 

“ Eight miles ! And where was the last one we passed ?” 

“ Well, that maun be about seven miles back.” 

“ Thank you. It is healthy for you, perhaps, but how you can 
live in a place where there is no public-house not for fifteen miles 
— well, it is a wonder. Good-day to you.” 

“Gude-day, sir,” said the farmer, with a broad, good-humored 
laugh on his face. The lieutenant was obviously not the first 
thirsty soul who had complained of the scarcity of inns in these 
parts. 

“ These poor horses !” growled the lieutenant as we drove on. 
“ It is the hottest day we have had. The clouds have gone away, 
and we have beaten in the race. And other eight miles in this 
heat — ” 

He would probably have gone on compassionating the horses, 
but that he caught a glimpse of Bell demurely smiling, and then 
he said, 

“ Ha, you think I speak for myself, mademoiselle ? That also, 
for when you give your horses water, you should drink yourself 
always, for the good of the inn. But now that we can get noth- 
ing, madame, shall we imagine it, yes ? What we shall drink at 
the Ledburn inn ? Have you tried, on a hot day, this : one glass 
of sparkling hock poured into a tumbler, then a bottle of Seltzer- 
water, then three drops of Angostura bitters, and a lump of ice ? 
That is very good ; and this too : you put a glass of pale sherry 
in the tumbler, then a little lemon-juice — ” 

“ Please, Count Von Rosen, may I put it down in my note- 
book?” says Tita, hurriedly. “You know I have your recipe for 
a luncheon. Wouldn’t these do for it ?” 

“ Yes, and for you !” says a third voice. “ What madness haa 


362 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


seized you, to talk of ice and hock in connection with Ledhurn ? 
If you get decent Scotch whiskey and ham and eggs for luncheon, 
you may consider yourself well off.” 

“I am a little tired of that sort of banquet,” says my lady, 
with a gentle look of resignation. “ Couldn’t we drive on to 
Edinburgh ?” 

But for the sake of the horses, we should all have been glad to 
do that ; for the appearance of this Ledhurn inn, when we got to 
it, impressed us with awe and terror. ’Tis a cut-throat- looking 
place. The dingy, dilapidated building stands at the parting of 
two roads ; the doors were shut as we drove up to it ; there was 
no one about of whom we could ask a question. It looked the 
sort of place for travellers to reach at dead of night, and become 
the subject of one or other of the sombre adventures which are 
associated with remote and gloomy inns in the annals of romance. 
When we did get hold of the landlord, his appearance was not 
prepossessing. He was a taciturn and surly person. There was 
apparently no hostler, and he helped Von Rosen to take the horses 
out of the phaeton ; but he did so in a fashion which awoke the 
ire of the lieutenant to a serious degree, and some sharp words 
were being bandied about when I drove the women into the inn. 

“ That is a dreadful person,” said my lady. 

“Why? He has become morose in this solitary inn, that is 
all. If you were shut up here for a few years, what would you 
become ?” 

We had ham and eggs and whiskey in a dingy little chamber 
up-stairs. The women would touch nothing, notwithstanding that 
the lieutenant came in to announce that the shoe of one of the 
horses had got loose, and that a smith would have to be sent for 
from some distance off. Moreover, when the smith did come, 
it was found that our ingenious landlord had not informed him 
what was required of him, and consequently he had brought no 
tools. Should we send the horse back with him, or would he 
despatch a boy for his tools ? 

“ How many miles is it to Edinburgh ?” says my lady. 

“ About a dozen, I should think.” 

“ We couldn’t walk that, do you think?” she says to Bell, with 
a doubtful air. 

Bell could walk it very well, I know ; but sbe regards her com* 
panion for a moment, and says^ 


OUR EPILOGUE. 


363 


“ We must not try.” 

Looking at this fix, and at the annoyance the women experi* 
enced in being detained in this inhospitable hostlery, that young 
Prussian got dreadfully enraged. He was all the more wroth 
that there was no one on whom he could reasonably vent his an- 
ger ; and, in fact, it was a most fortunate thing for our host that 
he had at last condescended to be a little more civil. The lieu- 
tenant came up into the room, and proposed that we should play 
at bezique. Impossible. Or would mademoiselle care to have the 
guitar taken out? Mademoiselle would prefer to have it remain 
where it was. And at length we went outside and sat in the 
yard, or prowled along the uninteresting road, until the smith ar- 
rived, and then we had the horses put in, and set out upon the 
last stage of our journey. 

We drove on in the deepening sunset. The ranges of the 
Pentland Hills on our left were growing darker, and the wild 
moorland country around was getting to be of a deeper and deep- 
er purple. Sometimes, from the higher portions of the road, we 
caught a glimpse of Arthur’s Seat, and in the whiter sky of the 
north-east it lay there like a pale-blue cloud. We passed through 
Pennycuick, picturesquely placed along the wooded banks of the 
North Esk. But we were driving leisurely enough along the 
level road, for the horses had done a good day’s work, and there 
still remained a few miles before they had earned their rest. 

Was it because we were driving near a great city that Von Ro- 
sen somewhat abruptly asked my lady what was the best part of 
London to live in ? The question was an odd one for a young 
man. Bell pretended not to hear ; she was busy with the reins. 
Whereupon Tita began to converse with her companion on the 
troubles of taking a house, and how your friends would inevita- 
bly wonder how you could have chosen such a neighborhood in- 
stead of their neighborhood, and assure you, with much compas- 
sion, that you had paid far too much for it. 

“ And as for Pimlico,” I say to him, “ you can’t live there ; 
the sight of its stucco would kill you in a month. And as for 
Brompton, you can’t live there ; it lies a hundred feet below the 
level of the Thames. And as for South Kensington, you can’t 
live there ; it is a huddled mass of mews. And as for Belgravia 
or Mayfair, you can’t live there ; for you could not pay the rent 
of a good house, and the bad houses are in slums. Paddington ? 


364 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


— a thousand miles from a theatre. Hampstead ? — good-bye to 
your friends. Bloomsbury ? — the dulness of it will send you to 
an early grave. Islington ? — you will acquire a Scotch accent in 
a fortnight. Clapham? — you will become a Dissenter. Den- 
mark Hill ? — they will exclude you from all the fashionable di- 
rectories. Brixton ? — the ‘ endless meal of brick ’ will drive you 
mad. But then it is true that Pimlico is the best-drained part 
of London. And Brompton has the most beautiful old gardens. 
And South Kensington brings you close to all sorts of artistic 
treasures. And Hampstead has a healthy situation. And May- 
fair is close to the Park. And Clapham is close to several com- 
mons, and offers you excellent drives. And Denmark Hill is 
buried in trees, and you descend from it into meadows and coun- 
try lanes. And Islington is celebrated for possessing the prettiest 
girls in the world. And Brixton has a gravelly soil — so that you 
see, looking at all these considerations, you will have no difficulty 
whatever in deciding where you ought to live.” 

“ I think,” said the young man, gravely, “ the easiest way of 
choosing a house in London is to take one in the country.” 

“ Oh, do live in the country !” exclaims Tita, with much anxie- 
ty. “You can go so easily up to London and take rooms about 
Bond Street or in Half-moon Street, if you wish to see pictures 
or theatres. And what part of the country near London could 
you get prettier than down by Leatherhead ?” 

Bell is not appealed to. She will not hear. She pretends to 
be desperately concerned about the horses. And so the discus- 
sion is postponed, sine die^ until the evening ; and in the gather- 
ing darkness we approach Edinburgh. 

How long the way seemed on this the last night of our driv- 
ing ! The clear twilight faded away ; and the skies overhead be- 
gan to show faint throbbings of the stars. A pale yellow glow 
on the horizon told us where the lights of Edinburgh were afire. 
The road grew almost indistinguishable ; but overhead the great 
worlds became more visible in the deep vault of blue. In a per- 
fect silence we drove along the still highway between the dark 
hedges; and clearer and more clear became the white constella- 
tions, trembling in the dark. What was my lady thinking of — 
of Arthur, or her boys at Twickenham, or of long-forgotten days 
at Eastbourne — as she looked up at all the wonders of the night? 
There lay King Charles’s Wain as we had often regarded it from 


OUR EPILOGUE. 


365 


a boat at sea, as we lay idly on the lapping waves. The jewels 
on Cassiopeia’s chair glimmered faint and pale ; and all the brill- 
iant stars of the Dragon’s bide trembled in the dark. The one 
bright star of the Swan recalled many an evening in the olden 
times ; and here, nearer at hand, Capella shone, and there Cepheus 
looked over to the polestar as from the distance of another uni- 
verse. Somehow it seemed to us that under the great and throb- 
bing vault the sea ought to be lying clear and dark ; but these 
were other masses we saw before us, where the crags of Arthur’s 
Seat rose sharp and black into the sky. We ran in almost under 
the shadow of that silent mass of hill. We drew nearer to the 
town ; and then we saw before us long and waving lines of red 
fire, the gas-lamps of a mighty street. We left the majesty of 
the night outside, and were soon in the heart of the great city. 
Our journey was at an end. 

But when the horses had been consigned to their stables, and 
all arrangements made for their transferrence next day to Lon- 
don, we sat down at the window of a Princes Street Hotel. The 
tables behind were inviting enough. Our evening meal had been 
ordered, and at length the lieutenant had the wish of his heart 
in procuring the Schaumwein with which to drink to the good 
health of our good horses that had brought us so far. But what 
in all the journey was there to equal the magic sight that lay 
before us as we turned to these big panes? Beyond a gulf of 
blackness the old town of Edinburgh rose with a thousand points 
of fire into the clear sky of a summer night. The tall houses, 
with their eight or nine stories, had their innumerable windows 
ablaze ; and the points of orange light shone in the still blue 
shadow until they seemed to form part of some splendid and en- 
chanted palace built on the slopes of a lofty hill. And then be- 
yond that we could see the great crags of the Castle looming 
dark in the starlight, and we knew, rather than saw, that there 
were walls and turrets up there, cold and distant, looking down 
on the yellow glare of the city beneath. What was Cologne, with 
the colored lamps of its steamers, as yon see them cross the yel- 
low waters of the Rhine when a full moon shines over the houses 
'of Deutz ; or what was Prague, with its countless spires piercing 
*the starlight and its great bridge crossing over to the wooded 
Iheights of the Hradschin — compared to this magnificent spec- 
tacle in the noblest city of the world ? The lights of the distant 


366 


THE STRANGE ADVENTURES OF A PHAETON. 


houses went out one by one. The streets became silent. Even 
the stars grew paler ; but why was that ? A faint light, golden 
and soft, began to steal along the Castle-hill ; and the slow, mild 
radiance touched the sharp slopes, the trees, and the great gray 
walls above, which were under the stars. 

“ Oh, my dear,” says Tita, quite gently, to Bell, “ we have seen 
nothing like that, not even in your own country of the Lakes !” 

[^Note hy Queen Titania. — “ It seems they have put upon me the responsi- 
bility of saying the last wm'd, which is not quite fair. In the old comedies it 
was always the heroine of the piece who came forward to the foot-lights, and 
in her prettiest way spoke the epilogue ; and of course the heroine was al- 
ways young and nice-looking. If Bell would only do that, now, I am sure 
you would be pleased ; but she is afraid to appear in public. As for myself 
I don’t know what to say. Count Von Rosen suggests that I should copy 
some of the ancient authors and merely say ‘ Farewell, and clap your hands 
but very likely that is a joke — for who can tell when gentlemen intend to be 
amusing? — and perhaps they never said anything so foolish. But, as you 
are not to be addressed by the heroine of the piece, perhaps, considering my 
age — tohich I am seldom allowed to forget — perhaps a word of advice may be 
permitted. And that is to the ladies and gentlemen who always go abroad 
and spend a great deal of time and money in hiring carriages to drive them 
in foreign parts. Of course every one ought to go abroad ; but why every 
year ? I am sure I am not p'^ivdiced, and I never enjoyed any tour abroad 
so much as this one through England. I do consider England (and of course 
you must include Scotland and Ireland) the most beautiful country in the world. 
I have never been to America ; but that does not matter. It cannot be more 
beautiful than England. If it is, so much the better, but I for one am quite 
satisfied with England; and as for the old-fashioned and quaint places you 
meet on a driving tour such as this, I am sure the American ladies and gen- 
tlemen whom I have met have always admitted to me that they were delight- 
ful. Well, that is all. I shall say nothing about our young friends, for I 
think sufficient revelations have been made in the foregoing pages. Arthur 
has only been to see us once since our return, and of course we could not 
ask him the reason of his getting married so unexpectedly.^ for Katty was with 
him, and very pleased and happy she looked. Arthur was very civil to our 
Bell ; which shows that his marriage has improved him in one respect ; but 
he was a little cold and distant at the same time. The poor girl was dread- 
fully frightened ; but she made herself very friendly to him, and kissed little 
Katty in the most affectionate manner when they were going away. Luckily, 
perhaps. Lieutenant Von Rosen was up in London ; but when he came down 
next day. Bell had a great deal to tell him in private ; and the result of the 
conversation — of which we elderly folks^ of course, are not permitted to know 
anything — seemed to be very pleasing to them both. Then there was a talk 
between my husband and him in the evening about a loose -box in certain 
stables. Bell came and put her arm round my waist, and besought me very 
prettily to tell her what were the nicest colors for a drawing-room. It seems 
there is some house, about a couple of miles from here, which they have vis- 
ited; but I am not going to tell you any more. As our Bell is too shy to 
come forward, I suppose I must say good-bye for her, and thank you very 
much indeed for coming with us so far on such a long and roundabout jour- 
ney.— T.”] 


THE END. 


By william BLAIKTE 


HOW TO GET STRONG, AND HOW TO STAY SO. With 

Numerous Portraits. New and Enlarged Edition from New 

Plates. Post 8vo, Ornamented Cloth, $l oo net. Postage 

extra. 

I owe a great deal to your writings, for they have been among 
the causes that made me realize the importance of proper 
bodily development. — THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

Unquestionably a great work. — Philadelphia Item. 

Few more inspiring books than this have ever been written. 
— Boston Herald. 

There is not a dull page in this admirable book. ... It 
is worthy of a place in every home. — Professor JOHN R. Sam- 
PEY, in Louisville Baptist Argus. 

No one is better qualified to write upon this subject. — 
Journal of Education, Boston. 

A knowledge of its precepts will not raise the dead, but it 
will keep many a man from joining the great majority too 
soon. — Independent, New York. 

It is a thoroughly up-to-date book. We very sincerely rec- 
ommend this wise, helpful, and hope-giving book. — Saturday 
Evening Gazette, Boston. 

A book that has already added thousands of years to the 
lives of its readers, and that will surely continue to open the 
eyes of all who read it. — Sports Afield, Chicago. 

It did more than any other book, perhaps, to awaken interest 
in the benefits of physical culture. — Watchman, Boston. 

Mr. Blaikie’s book on “ How to Get Strong " has remained the 
standard work on athletic training for health. — N. Y. World. 

In a manner far more comprehensive than the ordinary 
writer on this topic ventures upon. — Indianapolis Journal. 

“ How to Get Strong ” has a great many hints for simple 
home exercises and hygienic habits which any one would 
be the better for adopting. — Chicago Standard. 

He who reads and practises what he reads in Mr. Blaikie's 
book will feel an enduring debt of gratitude to him for his 
enthusiastic but well-considered words. — Hartford Post. 

It is a thoroughly sensible book of high value. Athletes 
will welcome it heartily, and men and women can learn from 
it how to acquire health, strength, and power of endurance. — 
Presbyterian Review, Toronto. 

A book that should be in every home. — Mothers’ Journal, 
New Haven. 

HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 


By S. R CEOCKETT 


KIT KENNEDY— COUNTRY BOY. Illustrated by 
A. I. Keller. 

THE RED AXE. A Novel Illustrated by Frank 
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Mr. Crockett can always be depended upon for a good story, 
and his many admirers will not be disappointed by “ The Red 
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LOCHINVAR. A Novel. Illustrated by T. de Thul- 

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of his powers and graces as a constructionist and narrator.— 
Washington Times. 

THE GRAY MAN. A Novel. Illustrated by Sey- 
mour Lucas, R.A. 

A strong book, . . . masterly in its portrayals of character and 
historic events. — Boston Congregationalist. 

Post 8vo, Cloth, Ornamental, $1 60 per volume. 


HARPER & BROTHERS, Publishers 

NEW YORK AND LONDON 

}^^Any of the above works will he sent by mail, postage prepaid, 
to any part of the United States, Canada, or Mexico, on receipt of 
the price- 



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